


No One Mourns The Wicked

by Priestlyislove



Category: Milo Murphy's Law
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Enemies to Friends, F/M, Family Issues, Humor, I have a problem, Jealousy, Love Triangles, M/M, Multi, Unrequited Love, Wicked AU, god how do I even tag this, this is what Dwampy would’ve wanted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-05-01 11:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14519874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Priestlyislove/pseuds/Priestlyislove
Summary: From birth, Cavendish has possessed a fiery personality, perhaps too much wit for his own good, a talent for magic, and...green skin. Following his weakly constituted brother Martin to the most esteemed school in Oz, Cavendish crosses paths with a brainless charmer, a heartless woman, a frightened lion, and a bubbly brunet who manages to get on every single one of his nerves (the feeling’s mutual). But destiny has bigger plans for all of them than just high school drama.





	1. Prologue

“The wicked witch is dead!”

The news came like a flood-or, more aptly, like water tossed haphazardly from a bucket-rushing through every tower, home, and hole in Oz, but was received with the hysteric relief of a town caught in a seemingly endless drought. The words dribbled down every chin, pooling together in one thought that was coherent enough.

“Good news!”

The celebration burst to life. For the first time in a long time, the streets were filled with laughter and color. Strangers hugged each other, people kissed each other so hard they saw stars. Confetti flew through the air like little butterflies. Children were already re-enacting the death, though it was difficult to find anyone who wanted to play the witch for longer than just a horrible shriek, and crumpling to the ground in a mimicked melting. There was no fear of wickedness hiding behind every corner. For the first time in a long time, people felt _safe_.

In rumors, Brick cried. Overcome with glee and relief or perhaps it was simply the overflowing goodness in him. No one had seen him cry before and no one had seen him cry since, so it seemed unlikely, but it had been a day full of impossibilities. As years passed, the story became that Brick’s tears had corroded the horrid skin of the witch. The most pure of all waters destroying the most awful of all souls. But those who were there when he came down in his bubble can still recite the words he sang to them.

“Let us rejoice, my fellow Ozians! Evil will never conquer good, and let us be grateful for that. No matter how rotten the world may seem, goodness will always find a way, as we’ve seen today. According to the Time Ape clock, it was the thirteenth hour when that young boy with the cowlick melted him. Balthazar Cavendish is dead!” His voice was strong and clear, as it always was, tears or not. “His reign of cruelty and terror has come to a bitter, unfulfilled end. Died alone, as goodness knows, the wicked must. Wicked lives are lonely, and a lesson to us all. No one mourns the wicked.”

The responses to his proclamation ranged from faux thoughtful agreement to joyous whooping. One shout stood out in the crowd.

“Why does wickedness occur?”

Brick’s feet touched the ground, delicate and graceful for a man who towered over nearly everyone. “Well, I don’t think anyone knows for certain. Could he have changed, or was it destined from the start? He had a mother and a father, like so many do. A normal family, with their secrets. The very moment he was born he was…. _different_. That jade tone of his skin certainly frightened the doctors, and continued to frighten for as long as he lived. So, you see, it couldn’t have been easy. Did a man like that have any choice but to be wicked?”

He received no answer. He was not expecting one. Even if he had not been speaking to a mob, he knew no one in Oz had the answers he needed, much less the ones he wanted. It was up to him to be the one who knew things, who kept all the right secrets and told all the right truths. Cheers sprung up, “No one mourns the wicked! At last, he’s gone! The wicked die alone!”

“He died alone,” Brick echoed quietly to himself, plastering on a smile as he waved farewell, about to float away. He really couldn’t stay, even if he wanted to. He had responsibilities to take care of, especially with the wizard’s sudden vacancy. Goodness never rests. Or mourns. 

“Wait! Wait! Brick, didn’t you used to be his friend?”

Brick blinked and twisted back around to face the Ozians, now all staring at him and muttering among themselves. Did their love for him outweigh their fear of the witch? He laughed, and the people were put at ease by the airy sound. “It depends what you mean by friend. I knew him, yes, when we were younger.” His eyes flickered down. “We went to the same school. Children, we were just school children-I didn’t know any better.”

He glanced up, only to see his answer had not satisfied the curious swarms. It was nearly impossible to drift away when all of those stares were weighing him down. His lofty behavior was the only thing keeping him from being buried altogether. He sighed like a mother who had been asked to read one more story to her sleepy child. He whisked out his wand and poofed into existence a bench that he floated down onto. He returned their expectant looks, patting the seat.

“Well, you better sit down. It’s a long story.”


	2. What Is This Feeling?

There are many contexts in which age is admired. Towers climbing to the sky like the ivy that spiraled and coiled around their crumbling bases added a certain level of charm and dignity to Shiz. Experience came with age, and a school ought to have plenty experience, even when its patrons did not. Especially when its patrons did not.

Now, there are parts of Brick’s story that he shouldn’t have known. Events he wasn’t there for, thoughts that were not his. But this story was not his alone. There is a moment when he is told everything he missed. A moment that made it feel as if while he was telling this story, there was someone sitting beside him to fill in the gaps.

Balthazar found himself with his hands tracing the stalks of ivy. Filled to bursting with excitement and anxiety, as he was about to receive his higher education at an old, clever school like this. He stood there trying to gather himself, trying to imagine how his life was about to be. Wondering why people found this green pretty and his unsightly.

He let out a breath, allowing himself only a small smile as an outlet for his sea of emotions. It shouldn’t have been possible for him to go here, seeing the way his father tried to largely ignore him. But Martin was going, and someone had to look out for Martin, Martin with his scars and trembling and twitching eye.

“Please, j-just for once,” Martin walked up next to him, trying to peel off the back of his hand. Balthazar motioned silently so Martin would realize what he was doing. He paused to separate his hands, gripping at his sleeves instead. “This is a fr-fr-fresh start. Nobody knows us, nobody knows us here s-s-so please just be normal. J-just once.”

Balthazar hesitated, and Martin recognized it. His brow furrowed. “Promise me, you’ll be n-normal.”

It was impossible to say no to his brother, even if the yes was a lie. “Of course,” Balthazar nodded, “I promise.” He grabbed their luggage, breaking free from the sluggish stupor all that daydreaming had put him in and gaining speed. He pushed the iron gate of the school open with his shoulder, letting Martin enter first and following after him.

All of the chatter of his peers came to a screeching halt when they spotted him. He tried to learn their faces very quickly in that moment, see who was surprised and who was horrified and who was disgusted, so he could decide how much he would detest each one of them.

He put their bags down, and was the only movement in the entire courtyard. Not even the breeze dared to run across the trees. It was a very pretty campus, Balthazar thought as he straightened up. He brushed the dust off his plain clothes, and looked at his future classmates calmly.

“THAT’S RIGHT!” He leaped at them, arms up like a flailing ghoul. People jumped, people screamed, someone fainted. He lunged at another group. “I’M GREEN!”

Martin buried his face in his hands, groaning about how Balthazar had made him a promise not even twenty seconds ago, while Balthazar continued to terrorize the judgmental student body.

“COME ON, LET’S GET THIS OUT OF THE WAY! EVERYBODY GETS AN EYEFUL!”

A faculty member finally presented himself, stomping over to the commotion. The eyebags under his eyes suggested that students were constantly causing him grief. “What’s going on over here?” The screaming and giggling came to a stop.

“Ooh, Mr. Block!” The Ozians knew this voice as Brick, but at the time he was called Barrick, as his parents had named him. That wasn’t the only thing about him that had changed. Balthazar knew him as the guy wearing enough glitter to be considered an environmental hazard and pointing at him with one hand, sticking the pointer finger of the other in his mouth and pretending to throw up. He sidled up to Mr. Block, suddenly the picture perfect image of a proper student. “Did you get my essay? You haven’t responded to my request to take your magic class yet.”

“I responded. Was ‘no’ too complicated for you?” Mr. Block did not spare a glance at him. “I can spell it out if you’d like.”

Balthazar decided he rather liked this Mr. Block.

“Well, yes, I mean, no,” Barrick sputtered, “I was just hoping you’d reconsider. I’m a very quick learner, everybody says so.”

“Then learn when you’re making a fool of yourself.” Mr. Block got back to the task at hand, sizing Balthazar up. “Who are you?”

“Uh, B-balthazar Cavendish. I mean, on paper I’m probably Balthazar Murphy, I use my mother’s surname-my father sent you a letter. He’s the mayor of Munchkinville. Uh, my father. Obviously. I don’t know why I specified.” Balthazar rambled pitifully.

“I was aware one Murphy was arriving.” Mr. Block glanced at Martin, who waved awkwardly. His gaze hardened as he looked back to Balthazar. “Not two.”

Balthazar faltered. His face heated with shame as he tried to swallow down the panicked tears pricking his eyes. He never imagined his father would do something like this to him, even after everything. His voice came out very small, “Well, uh, I guess he didn’t think to mention me.”

“Then you’ll have to go home.” Mr. Block said simply, as if that was a simple task to ask of him. He ushered Martin away, who glanced back at him helplessly, and suddenly Balthazar was losing everything. His vision became narrowed, and there was fire building in his chest that he couldn’t choke out.

“ _Don’t!_ ” was all he managed to cry before his arm jerked up involuntarily and magic sprung from his wrist. Whether he was begging Mr. Block to let go of his brother or begging himself to keep it under control was unclear.

Dark clouds rolled in overhead. Red lightning struck around Martin’s feet, although his expression suggested he was not in danger. It created a cage around him, and Balthazar did not tear his eyes from him until one of the students pushed past him in mad panic. Everyone was running around the courtyard like frazzled chickens, save for Balthazar, Martin, and Mr. Block.

The clouds dissipated when Balthazar glanced away, and the lightning fizzled out to release his annoyed brother. Besides his betrayed expression, the only proof any of that happened was the scorched circle around his shoes. “Y-y-you promised.”

People started crowding around again. Not even magic lightning would work as pest control at this school, though Balthazar knew he now faced a higher chance of getting turned into a slug than getting into Shiz.

“I’m sorry,” Balthazar directed at Martin first, then turned to Mr. Block. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-I lose control of it-I’m sorry-“

“Do not apologize,” Mr. Block cut him off sternly. “For a gift.”

Balthazar blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

Mr. Block laughed, and it was an odd, rasping sound. He came over and patted Balthazar heartily on the shoulder, nearly knocking him over. “I have been waiting for raw talent like yours! I’ll instruct you one on one on how to properly harness it, but first I must send a letter to the wizard! Oh, my boy, you might end up his magic grand vizier. If you make good, then the possibilities for you are endless.”

“That’s not fair!” Barrick gasped, turning to his friend Savannah. As a munchkin, she was little, but packed a real punch. “That’s so not fair. He didn’t even write an essay.”

“The wizard?” Balthazar responded unintelligently, Too awestruck to process what he had just been told.

“Oh, but you need a place to stay,” Mr. Block seemed to be speaking to himself at this point.

“Go give him a piece of your mind,” Savannah encouraged Barrick.

“I, uh, was hoping to stay with Martin,” Balthazar pointed to empty air by mistake, nearly tripping while standing still. He was still on cloud nine and it would take more than a boarding issue to bring him down.

Martin crossed his arms over his chest, looking away. “I don’t need you to b-babysit me.”

It didn’t matter what either of them said, as Mr. Block was not listening to them. “Would anyone rooming alone volunteer to board with Balthazar?”

He was met with stiff silence from the crowd. Barrick glided over confidently, “Mr. Block!” He started.

“Oh, perfect! Then it’s settled, you two will room.” Mr. Block was already walking away, leaving both boys in shock.

Barrick ran back to Savannah to continue complaining, and the field began clearing out. Soon, it was just Balthazar, who hadn’t moved a hair.

“Did that really just happen?” He pinched himself to see if he was dreaming. He pinched himself three more times. He laughed a little. “This horrible little quirk of mine that I tried to suppress might help me meet the wizard? I’ve waited for this since-since birth! I’ll prove my worth, and-and the wizard won’t judge me by the way I look.”

He laughed louder, unable to keep it from bubbling up in his chest. “No, no, there won’t be a person in Oz who’d judge me if I was with the wizard. No father isn’t going to be proud and no brother would be ashamed. And maybe one day, he’ll turn to me and say,” Balthazar put a finger to his lip to imitate a mustache, which he figured all respectable adults might have. He deepened his voice, “Balthazar, clearly you are very good inside, and a man that good deserves a matching exterior. Would it be alright if I degreenify you?”

He spun around, falling back onto the grass with a flop. He collected himself just a little, “Of course, that’s not important to me, but okay, sure, why not?” Suddenly, his future was unlimited. Overhead, fluffy white clouds drifted through the vast expanse of blue. The clouds shifted and reformed, and in them Balthazar had some sort of prophetic vision. He lifted a hand, as if he was reaching out to grab hold of it. He closed his eyes, humming, “True, the vision’s hazy, but I swear someday there’ll be a celebration throughout all of Oz that has to do with me. I’ll hide it, but with the wizard I know I’ll feel so happy I could melt.”

“Balthazar Cavendish?”

He blinked his eyes open to see a goat in teacher robes standing over him. His fur was a golden brown and Balthazar had to consciously resist the urge to run his hands through it. He had kind eyes. “Block realized he forgot to tell you where you’ll be staying, and asked me to show you to your room.”

“Thank you,” Balthazar mumbled as he sat up, naturally embarrassed. Laying in the grass was bad enough, he just hoped that he hadn’t overheard him gushing. Balthazar gathered his bags and followed him to the dorms. The ceilings were impossibly high, and Balthazar was craning his neck to get a good look at them, wandering blindly and bumping right into the teacher. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m such a klutz. I need to learn how to walk without daydreaming.”

The teacher bleated pleasantly. “Nonsense, a hearty imagination has never been a bad thing. It’s good to see students with open hearts. Just try to focus in class, alright?”

“Of course, sir, uh…” Balthazar’s face heated up again as he realized he never asked for his name.

“Orton Mahlson, I’ll be your history professor,” He smiled at him, then pointed to the door in front of them. “This is your room. I’ll see you in class, and until then, dream carefully.” He winked.

Balthazar laughed with him as he returned the way they came. The promise of friendship with Mahlson and the news about the wizard had left him with a bounce in his step. He opened the door with high hopes, and was met with a piercing scream.

“Are you planning on doing that everytime I come in?” Balthazar winced and placed his things on the bed across from the one occupied by Barrick, who had been applying eyeliner. Those good feelings he had were quickly vanishing.

“Maybe.” He shrugged, with a ‘wouldn’t you like to know’ tone. He spoke slowly, “You know, you make me feel kind of funny. There’s something about you that’s just so peculiar and hard to describe...you make me dizzy. My heart races when I think of you.”

“I think I know what you mean,” Balthazar nodded, unzipping one of his bags and taking out his clothes. “Whenever I see you my head starts to spin and my face flushes. I think there’s a word for it.”

“Right,” Barrick pointed his little eyeliner wand at him. “I think it starts with an L. Total, complete, unadulterated-”

“Loathing.” They said it at the same time, which just made them more pissed off at each other.

“I felt it the moment I looked at you!” Balthazar started counting off on his fingers, “For your hair and your voice and your clothing-“

“Everything about you makes my skin crawl!” Barrick agreed. “Having to spend time with you is a waking nightmare!”

“Then get out of here, go back to your rat pack!” He threw a shirt at him. “I don’t want to look at you!”

Barrick screamed again when the shirt touched him. “For the record, this is almost uglier than you are. I’m going to go get _decontaminated_ , and then yes, I’ll be spending time with my friends. I understand why you’re confused, you don’t have any!”

He stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Balthazar got up and opened the door. “I don’t need any!” And he slammed it again, returning to his bed in a huff.

The door opened again. “That’s exactly what a loser would say!” Barrick slammed the door again, and the race to get the last word began.

Fifteen noise complaints were filed as the fighting continued inot the early dawn.


	3. Dancing Through Life

“Brick, do you know the cause of the animal revolution in 1607?” Mahlson stood between Barrick’s desk and the desk of the person he had been chatting up.

“Uh, it’s not Brick,” Barrick forced an impatient smile. “I’m not a rock.” As much as Balthazar wanted to snark that he had the intelligence of one, he didn’t want to interrupt the class. Mahlson worked hard to keep the students engaged and as much peace as possible. “It’s Barrick. With a ‘bar.’ Barrick.”

“I’m sorry,” Mahlson tried his hand, “Baaaaaaark.”

Barrick’s smile twitched. “Uh, no, the ‘rick’ doesn’t disappear. It’s two syllables and uh, you don’t hold out the a.”

Balthazar stifled his laughter. Unlike Mr. Block, Mahlson’s disrespect was accidental. “Right. Brick, could you answer my question?”

“Sure, professor,” Barrick stuck the eraser of his pencil between his teeth, humming loudly, as if his goal was to piss Balthazar off. Knowing him, it might’ve been. “Uh, the animals were....angry?”

Mahlson chuckled. “Well, I can’t deny that much is true. But why were they angry, that’s the question.” He walked back over to the chalkboard. “Back then, anyone with fur or feathers was treated rather awfully. Discrimination and blind hatred reared its ugly head, but-”

He flipped the chalkboard to reveal some lesson, some map or or statistics or who knows what-but instead, his writing had been erased and written over the smudges was ANIMALS SHOULD BE SEEN, NOT HEARD.

Balthazar was sure everyone else in the room shared the same pit in their stomachs he did, based on the heavy silence. Regardless of Barrick’s struggles with the teacher, he would never do something that cruel. He was a flake, but he wasn’t a villain. Mahlson hid his own horror with a gentle flick of both his hand and his tail, “I’m sorry, children. Early dismissal.”

Students filed out, throwing sympathetic glances at Mahlson or righteously angry ones at the board, but not speaking up. Only muttering among themselves as they disappeared, until Balthazar and Mahlson were the only ones left in the room.

“You too, son,” Mahlson picked up the eraser. For the first time, Balthazar heard a twinge of fury in the usually calm goat’s voice, “My students shouldn’t have to be exposed to this.”

“I was hoping we could eat lunch together,” Balthazar, not about to budge, was already unwrapping his sandwich. Not that he could eat. He was sick to his stomach after seeing the board. “Who would write something so awful?”

“People don’t like anything that’s different. And as the only animal teacher in Shiz, I find myself very different.” Mahlson gave him a weary smile. “I’m afraid it’s not exactly an unpopular opinion. There are some...truly menacing rumors these days, including stories of animals losing their ability to speak. Just stories, of course, but there’s a chill anyone with paws just can’t shake. Something bad is happening in Oz.”

“In Oz?” Balthazar laughed with uncertainty, eyebrows creasing, “Professor, if something bad _is_ happening, someone has to tell the wizard. That’s why we have a wizard! He’ll fix this, he-he can fix anything.” He offered up the wrapper that protected his lunch, and Mahlson took it gratefully. “When I get to meet him, I’ll talk to him. Everything will be alright.”

Mahlson chomped, the wrapper crinkling between his teeth. “I hope you’re right.” He smiled softly, then tapped the desk, “You should go, have lunch with your friends . No reason to stay back and comfort an old goat. I’ve seen worse.”

Balthazar winced, too ashamed to admit to his lack of friends but surprised his teacher hadn’t noticed. Even Martin seemed preoccupied with distancing himself from him. So he just spoke politely as he rose from his seat, “Right. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He headed out of the classroom and escaped to the courtyard, hoping to find some quiet corner to eat in peace. Somewhere as far from Barrick as a person could be. The trick was avoiding any swarms that shrieked with laughter.

He glanced both ways before stepping onto the path, taking an absentminded bite of his sandwich. His brain was still in the classroom, mulling over the rumors Mahlson spoke of. They must be far and few between if the wizard hadn’t heard them yet. Still, his only friend was distressed, so Balthazar would do what he could to help. He’d have to tell Mr. Block that he had something to discuss with the wizard, as soon as they could meet.

“Watch out!”

Balthazar dove out of the way of a carriage, the driver barely stopping the horses from stomping his brains in. His sandwich was not saved. The driver turned back to the passenger, “sir, we’re here.”

There was no response except for snoring from the backseat. Balthazar stood up, brushing himself off quickly and storming over. “Excuse me!” What he wanted to be an angry command came out more as an undignified squawk.

The boy in the back had thick curly hair and fancy clothes that nicely balanced the fact that he was rich with an apparent lack of care for his appearance. His shirt wasn’t even buttoned up halfway. There were blue tattoos up his arms, and Balthazar wondered how he managed to get them when he looked only as old as him, if not a year or two younger. It was hard to pinpoint since his face was mostly obscured by a pair of giant sunglasses.

“Oh my goodness!” Barrick popped up out of nowhere, scaring the daylights out of Balthazar (though he’d never admit it). “Look at those markings! It has to be him!”

“Who?” Balthazar asked as a knee jerk reaction, and instantly regretted it. The last thing Barrick needed was an excuse to hear his own voice.

“Uh, the Winkie prince? Vinnie?” Barrick looked at him like he was stupid, but Balthazar was pretty sure that was just his face.

The so called prince sat up with an obnoxious yawn. He scratched his stomach and lowered his sunglasses, revealing a chocolatey colored eye and the other the same shade of blue as the markings on his body. It was proof of his royal blood. Barrick squealed, and Balthazar cringed at the sound. Vinnie smiled at Barrick, and he was suddenly intoxicating. “You gonna wake this sleepin’ beauty with a kiss, handsome?”

“Ex-excuse you,” Balthazar stuttered, remembering why he came over in the first place, “I mean, excuse me, I mean, your driver almost hit me.”

Vinnie gave him the once over. “Maybe he saw green and thought go.” He hopped out of his ride, flinging his sunglasses haphazardly into his seat. He waved his driver off, “Tell dad I’m not gonna last here, maybe he’ll give up.”

“You crushed my sandwich,” Balthazar continued, still reasonably upset.

“My bad, why don’t you go photosynthesize a new one,” Vinnie joked, and Barrick laughed like it was the funniest thing he had ever heard. Balthazar’s face heated up, but he pretended not to care.

“Do you need help finding your classes? I could help. I’m very helpful.” Barrick continued to giggle. “Maybe we have some classes together.”

Vinnie started to walk, and the other two followed him like moths to a flame. Despite the fact he was the new one, he was leading the way. “I’m not big into class, actually. Schools are always teachin’ the wrong lesson, you know? Believe me, I’ve been to plenty of ‘em, kicked out of just as many, so I know. They want you to-uh, to care about things, to stress ‘bout every little thing, but here’s a secret-nothing actually matters. That’s just-it’s life. Life doesn’t matter.”

Vinnie sat down amongst a herd of kids, and only then did Balthazar realize he had followed him someplace densely populated. He was so distracted by... _everything_. Nothing about this guy didn’t draw the eye. He commanded everyone’s attention, and no one more than snickered at Balthazar.

“Life can be painless, so long as you’re brainless,” Vinnie winked, tapping the side of his head. Barrick clung to his speech like it was gospel. Well, that’s how it looked to an outsider. In actuality, Barrick didn’t hear a word of it, too busy picturing how good he and Vinnie would look as a pair. “Those who don’t try never look foolish.”

“Clever.” Savannah rolled her eyes, who was among the group Vinnie led them too. But she was smiling, which wasn’t a common look for her. “Any other words of wisdom floating around in that empty head of yours?”

“What, don’t tell me you guys are a bunch of bookworms?” Vinnie stole a grape from someone’s lunch. “Looks like the responsibility of bringing the party falls to me once again. What’s the coolest place in town?”

“The Osdove ballroom?” Barrick offered up. It wasn’t a question, but Barrick lifted the end of his statement like it was one. Maybe that’s how he flirted.

Vinnie flashed a grin. “Sounds perfect! Tell your friends, tonight we’ll go down to the Osdove ballroom and have a lil’ shindig. By little, I mean the biggest party this dusty school’s seen since the...uh, lightless times.”

“Dark ages.” Balthazar corrected him dryly, but no one listened to him.

“Trust me, life’s a breeze when you’re skimming the surface. Just one night of real livin’ will teach you exactly what schools can’t. And make sure you bring somebody pretty,” Vinnie gently grabbed Savannah’s hand and gave it a kiss. “So I can get a dance.”

“In your dreams,” Savannah slipped her hand away, but there was a new sparkle in her eyes. The bell rang, and Balthazar darted away from the crowd to avoid the bustle. Vinnie seemed content to stay where he was, so nobody pushed him to go to class.

Savannah and Barrick walked together. They always did, even when they had classes across the school from each other. Barrick was often late. Savannah brushed her bangs away from her eye, only for them to fall back into place. “So, that prince…”

“Oh, Sav, I’m in love,” Barrick spoke dreamily. “Really, really in love. For real this time. We deserve each other, I just know it.”

Savannah stopped walking, but Barrick didn’t notice, floating and twirling around in preparation for the night. Savannah swallowed, and her decision was made. She started walking again, “You should ask him to go with you.”

“I’m gonna!” Barrick assured her, pausing briefly, “do you have someone to go with?”

Friends looked out for friends, and Savannah figured it was her turn. “Oh yeah,” she nodded, glancing around the halls. There was Martin, tapping anxiously at his locker. “I’m gonna ask twitchy over there.”

“Wow. You are _so_ good.” Barrick was impressed by her great act of charity. Someone as cool as her asking out someone as lame as him was basically the same as curing world hunger.

“Not as good as you,” she responded out of routine. She bit her lip. “But, tell Vinnie to save a dance for me, alright?”

Barrick laughed, and ran a hand through his hair, and Savannah knew that meant he was about to be terribly selfish. His voice was condescending, coated in mock sympathy, “I’ll tell him, but to invite that poor boy and then ditch him the minute you get there? Seems a little...heartless, don’t it?”

“You’re right,” Savannah forced a smile. He was always right. To the point of nauseum. Deciding she didn’t want to see his stupid face right then, Savannah parted ways to go ask an unsuspecting Martin to the dance.

After class, Barrick found Vinnie and told him when to pick him up. “You can get me at eight.”

Vinnie had not asked Barrick out, nor the reverse. But his forwardness was fun. Vinnie grinned, “Sure. I mean, look at you, you’re perfect.”

“You’re perfect.” Barrick repeated with a purr, running his fingers through Vinnie’s curls. “So we’re perfect together.”

Meanwhile, Martin had stopped Balthazar in the halls, which was unusual but not unwelcome. “Isn’t it a-a-amazing?” Martin sighed, “For one night, I might finally have a f-fun night, and it’s because Barrick gave Savannah the courage to ask me. C-can you believe a girl like that had a crush on m-m-me? I just wish there was something I could do for Barrick, after what he did f-for me.” He gave Balthazar his best puppy dog eyes, silently asking him for the unreasonable.

“I’m glad you’re happy,” Balthazar smiled. He had trouble believing Barrick had anything to do with it, but what Martin wanted of Balthazar, he would get. He wrung his hands as he thought, then nodded, “Alright, you might not be able to do anything for him, but I can. I’ll ask Mr. Block to reconsider Barrick for his magic class. According to him, I’m some kind of prodigy, so he might do it for me.”

Martin hugged him, and his arms were feeble but Balthazar could feel his gratitude. An aching Balthazar hadn’t noticed disappeared with the hug, and returned tenfold when Martin pulled away, leaving Balthazar empty and curious as to how long he had gone without touching another person. A dance might be nice. To brush up against others and feel like any other kid.

Balthazar was back at his dorm before he even realized he had been walking, still trying to decide if he should go. Inside was Barrick, who quickly hid something behind his back when he heard the door creak. The dark tip of it peaked out from behind him.

“Barrick, listen…” Balthazar's voice caught in his throat. This wasn't going to be easy. He swallowed his disgust, knowing he had to talk fast or risk it coming back up, “Martin and I were just talking about you and-“

“What a coincidence, I was just thinking about you! Thinking that you might like to wear this hat to the party tonight!” Barrick displayed what he tried to hide, a strangle triangular hat with a large brim. “My aunt got it for me, but it’s...well, I think it’d look great on you! It’s so...sharp, and you know, black is this year’s pink.” Barrick motioned to his current bubblegum colored getup, and then thrusted the hat closer, eyeing Balthazar’s outfit, “It’ll look perfect with that odd little smock I’ve never seen you wash. You deserve each other, this hat and you! You’re both so... _smart_!”

Barrick caught him like a spider with a fly. Balthazar could not hide how alluring he found the hat, as a total fashion disaster himself. He reached out for it like he was in a daze, hesitating at the last moment. “Are you sure?” He sounded a little guilty, as if he was receiving a fine gift, as opposed to the ugliest thing Barrick had ever seen.

“Oh, absolutely. I give you this out of the goodness of my heart.” Barrick mimicked his solemness, and Balthazar bought it. He took the hat, turning it over in his hands and marveling at it.

First he helped Martin find someone to go to the dance with, then he graciously gave this stylish accessory to Balthazar. Maybe Balthazar had misjudged him. He can’t help it if he’s defensive, he’s had a lifetime of being bullied that guided his choices. But he couldn’t live his whole life in his shell. Not everyone was out to get him.

With that in mind, he decided to go to the party.

Things were in full swing at the Osdove ballroom. Barrick had glued himself to Vinnie, to the point where if Vinnie wanted a refreshment, he’d have to practically climb over his dancing partner. Barrick finally stopped squeezing him long enough for him to swipe a drink. Some munchkin with an urgent letter had distracted him. Vinnie walked back over at his own risk.

“Whatcha got there?” Vinnie asked as he sipped from his cup.

“Oh, oh it’s incredible news,” Barrick breathed, eyes scanning the paper over and over again, in case he had misread it. “I’m being moved to Mr. Block’s class, I’m going to be taught magic!”

Vinnie didn’t fully understand the significance, so he just raised his cup in a miniature toast alongside a mildly supportive “hella.”

“It’s because of Balthazar!” Barrick continued, finally looking up from the letter and taking in Vinnie’s confused expression. “The green guy. All knees and elbows, dresses like a really depressed bag of flour.” Barrick seemed in shock, like he was a sleepwalker who had just been awaken. “Oh, that’s so nice of him. I didn’t think he could be nice. He was just-he was mean, you know, and..strange, I suppose. I mean, everyone starts strange, that’s alright. He was nice to me. Oh no, and I gave him that awful hat-“

As if on cue, Balthazar entered in through the main doors wearing that hideous thing, and the music came to an abrupt stop. People screamed, and the screams turned to cruel laughter. Balthazar stiffly made his way through the crowd, as if he was oblivious to the fact that the joke was on him. When no reaction was earned out of him, the laughter faded out, leaving an uncomfortable silence as everyone stared at him, giving him about five feet of space. His own brother buried his face in his hands.

Balthazar glanced around, and then lifted his arms. A few people flinched, thinking he was going to cast some kind of spell. Instead, he started awkwardly jerking and wiggling around.

“Oh no, he’s dancing,” Barrick whispered and clutched the letter to his chest. “This is painful. This is really painful.”

Vinnie did not respond. His eyes were focused on Balthazar, as if he were the only person in the room. His gaze was soft while everyone else stared daggers. “Well, he certainly doesn’t care what anybody thinks,” Vinnie whistled, and his fascination lined on admiration.

Barrick carefully folded up the letter, sticking it into his pocket. He took a deep breath, and made his way to the heart of the storm, where everything was dead still, save for the jilted and bizarre movements of Balthazar.

Barrick stood right next to him, and Balthazar paused. Barrick glanced at him just once, then lifted his arms up like Balthazar had. Balthazar began to dance again, and Barrick joined him, copying his movements and slowly guiding him into a less unusual pattern. Murmurs broke out in the crowd. The music started up again, and people began to return to their own business. Everyone was dancing after another moment, but for Barrick and Balthazar, the world around them didn’t matter at all.

They wanted to say something, they both wanted to say something, but neither spoke a word. It didn’t need to be said.


	4. Popular

“So, we’re friends now.” Barrick explained to Balthazar once they were back in their room. Balthazar was ready to go to bed, but Barrick was still buzzing with energy. He shook his fists triumphantly, “Which is exciting! Yay! You get to be my friend!”

“Yay,” Balthazar gave him a hesitant thumbs up. Deciding Barrick wasn’t the worst was enough whiplash for him, he wasn’t exactly prepared to befriend him.

“Okay, Balthazar- _uck_. Your name is such a mouthful. That makes you unattractive.” Barrick spoke matter-of-factly. This was the world as he saw it. “I’ll call you…Balthy. How’s that?”

“Uh, it's a little cutesy,” Balthazar cringed. “I like my name-“

“Okay, Balthy. Next step of friendship is trading secrets.” Barrick bounced down on Balthazar’s bed, barely containing himself, “I’ll go first. Vinnie and I are getting married!” He kicked his legs in the air, the release of energy being the only thing to keep him from shrieking joyously.

Balthazar sat next to him, leaning back against the wall. It pushed his hat down in front of his eyes, so he took it off and put it to the side temporarily. “Aren’t you both a little young for that?”

Barrick laughed and slapped his arm hard. “Not yet, silly! I mean one day. Probably in the summer. Summer weddings are perfect. Especially for me and him.”

“Still, it seems a little fast for a proposal…” Balthazar shrugged. He didn’t know how this stuff worked.

Barrick rolled his eyes. “He hasn’t actually said anything yet. But I can tell. It's coming. I mean, why _wouldn’t_ he want to marry me?” Barrick laughed again, then nudged Balthazar. “Now you tell me a secret!”

“Okay…” Balthazar thought. He didn’t have any secrets like that, naturally. Nobody was dying to propose to him when he looked like this. He reached under his collar, pulling out a little heart shaped locket. Barrick awed at it, and Balthazar flicked it open to reveal a couple of shriveled leaves. He stared at them wistfully.

Barrick leaned a little closer to get a whiff of them. “Smells nice. Kinda nutty, or like…vanilla-y?”

Balthazar smiled and nodded a little. His voice came out soft, “Other than her maiden name, this is all I have from my mother. She…when she was pregnant with Martin, my dad was scared the baby might turn out like me. You know. Green.” Balthazar chuckled, but it was a pained sound. “He had her on a type of medicine to counteract whatever went wrong the first time, but it was too much for her. She, uh, she died in childbirth, and Martin came out kinda sick and-he’s always been kinda sick, I guess.”

Barrick was not prepared for such a heavy topic. He leaned against him in a way he hoped was comforting. “Don’t blame yourself for that,” he whispered, “You had no control over your birth circumstances. You weren’t what your parents were expecting, but that’s like, just what having a kid is like. There’s no such thing as a perfect baby. The perfect comes later. You have to work for it. Don’t suffer for your parents’ choices. You couldn’t even talk back then, it’s not like you had any say in it.”

Balthazar closed his locket and tucked it away, clearing his throat. “So, what’s the next step of friendship?”

Barrick straightened back up, clapping his hands together. “Yes! Okay, I have decided to take you under my impressive, sparkly wing, and make you,” he paused for emphasis, “popular!”

Balthazar was suddenly regretting his choice in topic change. He grimaced, “Oh, you really don’t have to do that. Really.”

“I know. That’s what makes me so good.” Barrick fanned himself, as if shocked by his own perceived niceness. “Seeing hopeless cases like yourself makes my tender heart bleed. But don’t worry, you might be my toughest project, but I’m determined to succeed. I’ll teach you everything. How to fix your hair, how to flirt, what shoes to wear and who to talk to and oh! This is just so exciting!”

He got up, twirling over to his closet and returning with armfuls of superficial junk. He knocked Balthazar’s hat out of his way, and it flopped sadly to the floor. “Wait, my hat-“

“Let’s start by getting your bangs out of your face,” Barrick was unscrewing the lid of a hair gel container. He dipped his fingers in and pushed Balthazar’s bangs back, to match his own slicked back style. He gasped, “You have such pretty eyes! Look at those baby blues, I’m so jealous!”

“They’re not for sale,” Balthazar replied stiffly. Compliments were still foreign and vaguely threatening to him.

“Then I’ll just have to tear them out while you’re sleeping!” Barrick laughed, so Balthazar laughed back nervously. It was impossible to tell if he was joking. Barrick moved on to makeup, eyeing Balthazar’s face. “You actually have decent features. You’re kind of hot, like, a six point five out of ten. Maybe a seven in good lighting. Let me just find something that goes with green…” he kept digging through his bag, quickly growing frustrated. “I must have something! What if I want to wear something green? I mean, I would never, because green is unsightly, but what if I did? I’m so ill prepared. This is embarrassing. We’ll just do mascara and eyeliner, and I’ll fix your nails. Okay?”

He did not wait for a response. He made Balthazar close his eyes and sit through that process, then the even longer process of cleaning up his cuticles and painting on several layers of nail polish. Barrick jabbered the whole time and Balthazar tried to follow, but it was like he was speaking another language. Popularity was a bizarre and complicated world. So many rules. But Balthazar was a fast learner. He could learn this. How strange it would be to learn this. To fit in. Was that really a possibility for him? If he learned all these things, if he worked hard to get it right, would he fit in?

Barrick was giving him the final onceover, and his face lit up as he came up with one more idea. He scrambled off the bed and ran back over to his, taking out his training wand. “I shall now turn your smock into a beautiful ballgown!” He gave it a professional looking flick, making up some magic words. Nothing happened. He tried two more times, then huffed in annoyance. “These things are impossible. I guess the smock will do.” He took a flower pin off his own outfit instead, sticking it in Balthazar’s hair. “There we go! Why, Balthazar, look at you. You’re beautiful.”

Balthazar reached up and touched the flower, his movements uncertain, like a wild beast wandering into new territory. Beautiful. He had never been beautiful before. He drew his hand back into his lap, examining the pink polish. Beautiful. Was he beautiful?

“I…” He snapped out of it. He quickly took the flower out of his hair. “No, this is silly. Thank you for trying-but you were right, I’m a hopeless case. I don’t need to be popular, it’s alright.” He flopped onto his side, rolling over so Barrick couldn’t see his face.

“Doesn’t need to be popular,” Barrick muttered in disbelief, shaking his head and returning to his own bed, “You really are terribly strange, Balthy.”

Balthazar didn’t entirely back down from the role Barrick wanted him to fill. He slicked his hair back the next morning like he had been taught, and tried to copy the cool, confident gait Barrick described as he walked to class. He took his usual seat in History, opening his notebook right away to organize today’s notes. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone sit down next to him. That wasn’t right. Nobody sat anywhere near him and that was how he liked it. “Sorry, but that seat’s taken-“

He looked up at the offending personage and saw it was Vinnie, who immediately got up to leave. Balthazar tried to backtrack, “Uh, no, actually, the person I was saving that seat for- _died_.” As an afterthought, Balthazar decided to casually a run a hand through his hair and giggle like Barrick said to when flirting. He grabbed a fistful of hair, yanked his head back and cackled. Then he threw in a wink for good measure.

Vinnie laughed, eyebrows creasing. “Have you been Barrick-ified? You don’t have to change, man.”

“I haven’t changed!” Balthazar reacted defensively, even though Vinnie was absolutely correct. “What about you? I thought you said class wasn’t ‘your thing.’” He air quoted accusatorily.

Vinnie’s face was dusted with a blush, and he started sheepishly, “Well, I was hoping I'd run into y-“

“Attention, class,” Mahlson walked in somberly, with Mr. Block at his heels. “I have an unfortunate announcement to make. From this moment on, I will no longer be your teacher.”

Mr. Block continued, “Professor Mahlson is no longer allowed to teach at this school, due to unavoidable circumstances.”

“Is it because he’s an animal?” Balthazar stood up. The silence told him everything. “That’s not right! You can’t just-Mr. Block, you’re a headmaster! You can stop this! We know-everybody in this room knows this isn’t right!”

“Murphy, sit down.” Mr. Block steeled. His expression was troubled. He didn’t want this. He couldn’t want this.

“My name is Cavendish,” Balthazar balled his hands into fists to discourage their shaking. “And I refuse to be complacent in a good man being fired for no reason other than-!”

“Balthazar.” Mahlson spoke up this time. His voice was gentle. “Please, son, sit down. Everything will be alright. A dreamer is never silenced, not for good, but occasionally they have to remain quiet. So please, just stay quiet. Now isn’t the time.”

Balthazar sat back down, unable to disobey his friend. Vinnie looked like he wanted to say something, but he bit his lip and waited for Mahlson to finish saying what he had to. Mahlson sent a weary yet grateful smile Balthazar’s way. He motioned to the class, “It was a pleasure teaching you all. I hope you never stop your search for the truth. It won’t always be easy. But even the most turbulent storms end, do not be afraid of the trials standing before you. There is no greater reward than truth.” He looked at Mr. Block, and his eyes spoke of things none of the children in that room could begin to understand. “I don’t blame you for this.”

Mr. Block opened his mouth but closed it just as quickly. Mahlson grabbed the last of his things and walked through the door for the last time. Mr. Block stared after him for a long time before turning back to the students. “This decision was sudden, so we do not yet have a new history teacher lined up for you. I assure you there will be a new one by tomorrow, but to fill this period there is a guest speaker. I,” he breathed out and closed his eyes, and that was the closest to emotional vulnerability anyone had seen from him. “I have work to do.”

Mr. Block exited the room, and two men entered in with a table covered in cloth. “You children are very lucky,” one started, “This is brand new experimental technology. You’re some of the first to see it in all of Oz. Behold,” he motioned grandiosely as the other tore away the cloth, “the cage.”

On the table was a box with holes in its sides and what looked like a normal iron cage with a few attached trinkets. The first man continued with a sneer, “The cage is the future. By placing young animals inside, it prevents them from ever learning how to speak.”

“What the fuuuuuck,” Vinnie whispered under his breath.

The second man opened the box with the holes and took out a lion cub. It looked so scared. How could they do that to a baby? Balthazar felt the anger burning up inside him. They opened the cage, and Balthazar was back on his feet before he could think.

Several kids jumped or turned around at the sound, but Balthazar could only see the lion. The rest of his vision was red. Red, red, red-

His senses returned to him, and he found his arms outstretched, sparks still fizzling from his fingertips. The room was eerily quiet. Everyone else was totally still, as if they had been frozen-save for the lion cub and Vinnie.

Vinnie stared at him with wide eyes, slack jawed. “How did you do that?”

“I-I don’t know,” Balthazar told him truthfully. “I just got mad.”

“Okay,” Vinnie got out of his seat, hurrying over to the cub. “Don’t get mad at me.” He gave him a half smile as he scooped up the lion. He glanced at the statue-like men. “How long is it gonna last?”

“No idea.” Balthazar admitted. He ran to the door, opening it and ushering Vinnie out, “Let’s just get that poor kitten out of here as fast as we can.”

They ran side by side, not saying another word until they were at least a mile away from the school, at the edge of the woods. They both stopped to catch their breath, Vinnie sitting down with a groan. Seeing him there, all sweaty and gross, Balthazar decided to prod at him.

“I thought you said you didn’t care about anything,” he faked an innocent tone, “That nothing in life matters.”

“That I did, chickapea,” he still sounded out of breath. “Your point?”

Balthazar couldn’t tell if he was being purposefully obtuse or if he really was that dense. “You just saved that lion cub with me! Surely, you have to care. More than anyone else in that room did! It’s not bad-obviously, obviously not bad, I just-why do you pretend to be so shallow and vain?”

“It’s not pretend,” Vinnie snorted, absentmindedly petting the head of the lion, “I am _exactly_ as shallow and vain as I appear.”

“If you were, you wouldn’t be so sad.” Balthazar sat down next to him. Vinnie blinked, turning to look at him. Balthazar noticed a scratch on his face. “Oh, you’re bleeding.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, during the rush outta here I think the little guy got me. He was really scared, you know,” Vinnie trailed off. Balthazar reached out and touched his cheek without thinking. Vinnie winced from the sting of the cut but didn’t pull away.

“You…” Balthazar’s face was warming up. “You, uh, you should get that lion somewhere safe.”

“Yeah. Yeah! Yeah, that’s a fantastic idea.” Vinnie stood up abruptly and started running.

“Wrong way-“

“Wrong way! Yep, I got it.” Vinnie turned on his heel just as Balthazar called out to him and ran towards the woods. He disappeared among the trees, and Balthazar let out a dreamy sigh. It didn’t seem possible that a guy like Vinnie existed. At least, not in Balthazar’s world. In Barrick’s world, maybe.

A world of pretty girls and handsome boys. Of hands accidentally brushing together, of eyes meeting in a crowded room, of leaping hearts, of fairytale romances. Of true love. Vinnie could be that boy. He was made for it. He was a prince, he was charming and handsome and caring. Yes, he could be that boy. But Balthazar was not.

There was no point in dreaming. He couldn’t start wishing. He would lose sight of who he was if he did. He wasn’t born for the rose and pearls. Wishing otherwise would only wound his already fragile heart. It was a lovely fantasy, and he longed to run away to it and never look back, but reality would drag him back down eventually.

A boy like Vinnie and a boy like Balthazar could never be. He’s who winsome wins him. A chiseled face with long lashes. Graceful and delicate and so easily perfect. That’s the guy he chose, and he loves him so. And heaven knows Balthazar is not that guy.  


	5. Defying Gravity

Vinnie and Balthazar spent the next couple weeks serving detention for that little stunt they pulled. Balthazar had tried to apologize for getting him in trouble, but Vinnie waved it off and told him he hoped it would infuriate his dad a little. In fact, it was too bad Balthazar didn’t get him kicked out altogether. He muttered it was for a good cause, too, but he pretended Balthazar had misheard him when he tried to use it as proof Vinnie had more beneath the surface than he let on.

For the duration of detention, they made faces at each other from across the classroom to try and get the other to laugh and get a stern warning from the teacher. It was...fun. Balthazar didn’t think getting in trouble could be any fun at all, but he supposed Vinnie could make the dullest things sparkle.

The moment he was out of his last session, the second the bell had rung actually, Mr. Block informed him the wizard was ready to meet him. Balthazar had invited Barrick to come with him, and Barrick accepted with gleeful screaming, having never been to the Emerald City before.

But now they were at the train station and Barrick was less than pleased, being as fickle as he was. “I wish I could do weather magic like Mr. Block,” he whined, closing his umbrella. “I hate the rain. That’s gotta be a bad sign.”

“I don’t think so,” Balthazar shook the droplets off his person, “I like the rain.”

“Y-you’re going to catch a cold,” Martin scolded him. He and Savannah had come along to wish them a safe trip. Martin slipped off his cloak and gave it to Balthazar, so the only thing protecting Balthazar from the rain wasn’t just that ugly hat he refused to part with. “Be normal th-th-this time?” His tone was serious, but a smile edged on his face as he spoke.

Balthazar smiled back. “I won’t have to be, if all goes well.”

“If your impromptu magic shows are anything to go off of, I’m sure you’ll do fine.” Savannah referred to his outbursts as something amusing as opposed to dangerous. Which was mostly because Savannah was Savannah, but a little bit of it was because Balthazar had almost completely moved from possible danger to just plain nuisance in the eyes of his classmates. Though none of them tried to get close enough to really test it. She slugged Barrick in the arm. “Make sure you get me some cool souvenirs.”

Balthazar picked up his bags, but hesitated. He had always been there for Martin, even if Martin didn’t want him there. “Are you sure you’ll be alright on your own?”

Martin took Savannah’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “I won’t be alone. I-if a problem flares up, she’ll be here to help me. We’re in love.”

Savannah opened her mouth but closed it again. The look on her face was not love. It was pity. “That’s right. You two just enjoy yourselves.”

They walked out of the station, and Barrick sighed after them. “I’m so jealous of how in love they are.”

“I thought you and Vinnie were perfect and planning for marriage,” Balthazar quirked an eyebrow. He was constantly fighting the urge to hope they fell apart so he could swoop in, but he could at least be familiar with their relationship. He certainly wouldn't be crying all night if they were becoming distant.

“Right, it’s just…he’s been… _different_.” Barrick made a series of confusing hand gestures as he tried to make sense of his own confusing feelings. “He’s been… _thinking_. Things have just been kind of weird between us. We’re still going to be super happy together, though.”

As if on cue, Vinnie came running up to them, panting heavily before speaking, “I thought…I already…missed you…”

“Aw, you came to say goodbye!” Barrick grabbed his hands, but discovered they were sweaty and let go, wiping his hands off on his pantlegs and sticking his tongue out in disgust.

“Yeah,” Vinnie groaned and stretched. “Ugh, I didn’t know I could run that far. Balthazar, I wanted to tell you about this protest I’ve got planned-it’s got a decent amount of support. I mean, it’s not a lot, but I think Mahlson would be proud of us. I wish you could be there.”

He smiled at Balthazar, who looked away and tried to hide his blush. Barrick wasn’t sure what he was looking at, but he should’ve known. He was good at relationships, or at least, he wasn’t totally blind. But he was in denial, which meant what he was looking at was puzzling and bizarre. He certainly didn’t realize that old goat was such a big deal to his boyfriend. “I’m protesting too!” He piped up, and both sets of inquisitive eyes were on him. “Uh, I’m-I’m going by Brick now! In solidarity, because Professor Mahlson could never pronounce my name.”

Brick seemed proud of his improvised sacrifice, but Balthazar and Vinnie were less than impressed. “Uh, right. Okay, Brick.” Vinnie turned to Balthazar, and his smile came back. “Have fun, man.”

He went to shake his hand, but Balthazar moved in for a hug, so they laughed nervously and switched, and vice versa for a solid minute before the train began boarding and Vinnie just gave him an awkward salute instead. Balthazar returned it with a little too much enthusiasm.

The train ride was shorter than they expected, but the Emerald City was no less magnificent than advertised. Buildings that shot up into the sky, with boutiques and libraries on every street corner. Strange fashion and architecture could be found anywhere you looked. The places and the people were overwhelming in the best possible sense. Brick and Balthazar found themselves holding hands like otters so they wouldn’t drift apart and get lost.

After a while, Balthazar realized something. “Brick. Brick. Did you see that look I was getting?”

Brick twisted around, staring accusingly at every passerby. “Who’s giving you a look?”

“Nobody!” Balthazar couldn’t wipe the goofy smile off his face, and it just kept growing. “Nobody’s looking at me at all! Everything here is green and wondrous like I’ve never seen and _I fit in!_ ”

Everything really was green and blinding with how sparkly it was. Brick nodded, laughing, “I think we’ve found where we belong. We’re gonna call this place home someday. But we’ll always remember today.”

“When two friends-“ Balthazar started, but was quickly corrected.

“Two best friends.”

It took him a second to process that, but his chest felt light when he did. “Right, when two best friends shared a wonderful day.”

Brick swung their hands, “I wish we could check out every single store, but that would take years and we’re stuck with just one short day.”

“We can look around more after we’ve met the wizard,” Balthazar assured him as they reached the castle. A guard opened the door and led their way. This place alone would take days to explore. It was immense and looming, and yet there was something welcoming about it. Balthazar supposed the same could be said about the wizard.

Brick was not sharing his thought, instead sniffing around. Literally. “Is it just me, or does this whole place smell vanilla-y? No, that’s not exactly it…it’s familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Who cares how it smells?” Balthazar rolled his eyes. Brick might be his friend now, but he was still terribly superficial. The guard opened the door, and this time did not lead them in. Balthazar adjusted his hat with one hand and squeezed Brick’s hand with the other as they entered together.

The walls in here were unlike the polished stone hallways, instead covered in leaves and vines. A lump of leaves began to move, and Brick jumped. It got bigger and bigger, until it stood at its full height, about double an average Ozian. It turned around, revealing two piercing red eyes surrounded by a hard casing. A woodlike claw slowly unfurled towards the two of them.

“ _You_ ,” it spoke in a garbled, ancient voice. Brick and Balthazar were gripping each other’s hands so hard they were cutting off blood flow.

“You must be Balthazar!”

The voice that came out of the plant man was suddenly cheery and high pitched, with an accent neither of them recognized. He walked over and shook both of their hands. “It’s so nice to finally meet you! My soon-to-be press secretary has said a lot of good things.”

Mr. Block entered in from the door they came in from, going over to him and nodding in acknowledgement to his students. He was holding a huge book.

“You’re the wizard?” Brick breathed, letting go of Balthazar’s hand.

“That’s right. Sorry if I startled you, I’ve got appearances to keep up,” he laughed pleasantly. “People feel safer when they have a wizard that can terrify. But underneath it, I’m just a sentimental man. A gentle soul. In fact, my biggest dream was always to be a father-so that’s why I do my best to treat each citizen of Oz like my own child. Including you two." He winked, "If you’re as good as Block says, then it would be an honor to have you work for me. You’ll be helping all of Oz, and I’ll grant your deepest desires.”

Mr. Block walked over to them, holding out the book in his arms to Balthazar. “This is the Grimoire. It’s an ancient spellbook, passed down to each great magic user of Oz. Only those powerful enough to deserve it can even make sense of the writing. Why don’t you give it a look.”

Balthazar nodded, awkwardly flipping the book open with one hand and using his knee to support it. It was really heavy. “You know-I think I’m just going to-yep-“ he stuttered out as he put the book on the floor and kneeled in front of it. “Okay. It says here, ‘no spell can ever be undone. A change caused is a change permanent. Magic can be added to, but never subtracted from.’”

He glanced up and the wizard clapped, laughing heartily. “That’s very good! You were right, Block, this one’s a natural!”

Balthazar felt like he was going to burst at the seams with pride. This was it. His moment to prove himself and make good. His whole life had led up to this. And he was passing with flying colors.

The wizard called out the door, “Jerry! Get in here!” He looked back to Balthazar, smiling warmly. “Let’s have you try one of those spells, just to see where you’re at.” He crouched down, the vines growing from him twisting and twirling like they had their own consciousness. He flipped through the book, and the giant thing looked regular sized compared to his hands. He stopped on a page. “This one. You see, my dear monkey assistant Jerry has always dreamed of flying, so if you could perform this little levitation spell, oh, it would just make his day.”

Brick awed, and Balthazar nodded sheepishly, still glowing from the praise. He didn’t even glance over the spell.

A monkey, presumably Jerry, came in, and Balthazar motioned for him to sit in front of the book as the wizard stepped out of his way. He read over the words he was about to say, putting his full faith in himself and the wizard’s decision, and he took a deep breath. He closed his eyes, lifting his arms up. He had memorized the magic, it etched into his brain as fast as he could read it. He felt the usual fire, except this time he wasn’t being fueled by emotion so it didn’t scare him. It never slipped out of his control. It behaved like a liquid, taking the shape of the container he gave it.

He opened his eyes, and Jerry was still on the floor. His arms fell to his sides. Did he mess something up? Suddenly, Jerry’s uniform burst opened, revealing a pair of hideous bat wings. He began jumping around the place, nearly flying a few times in his panic. Balthazar clasped his hands over his mouth. “Oh no, oh no I’m so sorry, I never meant to-“

“Wonderful, Balthazar!” the wizard cheered. “Perfectly executed. The monkeys will serve as an example to any animals who try to speak out of turn. Once they see we can affect all of them at once, we'll be able to deter the rebellious masses.”

The warmth of his magic had already vanished, but now Balthazar’s blood ran cold. He was clever, too clever, and realized something too dreadful to be true. He looked at the spell again, reading its scrawled description. The wizard knew exactly what he had asked of Balthazar, and now Balthazar knew too.

“You haven’t done anything to help the animals because you’re the one taking away their speech.”

Brick laughed nervously, “Balthy, don’t be ridiculous. That’s crazy. That’s like, the craziest conspiracy ever. Block wouldn’t aid in stifling the animals, he’s in love with Mahlson!”

Balthazar blinked, standing up and hugging the Grimoire to his chest. He could be clever sometimes, but he could also be painfully oblivious, especially over matters of the heart. He looked to Mr. Block, whose face was turning the shade of a tomato. It was true, then. But any hope that thought created vanished just as fast.

“No.” Balthazar shook his head, taking a step back. “No, if he loved him-even if he thinks he still does-he wouldn’t have let him lose his job. He wouldn’t have hurt him for his own gain. If he’s so spineless he’d let someone he loves get hurt, he won’t stand up for anything.” An image of Vinnie flashed in Balthazar’s mind, and he became certain that he would do anything for him, and that he would lose anything for him, too.

“You’re out of line, Murphy,” Mr. Block growled, but the wizard stopped him from speaking further with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“I realize you’re young and hotheaded, and frankly, I like it. We could use a spark around here. But youth and arrogance go hand and hand and you think you’re right about everything! Every small thing looks huge to you because you're not done growing. But I'd like to help you grow. So, I hope you’ve spat your share of fire and are willing to listen to an adult who can see the bigger picture.”

“I’d sooner melt,” Balthazar hissed at him, and took off running, still clutching the Grimoire. He could barely hear the wizard shouting for the guards above his pulse rushing in his ears. He didn't know where to go or what to do. He found a storage room and stumbled inside. There was footfall behind him, and he turned around to see Brick had followed him, though it was clear Brick wasn’t on board with his actions.

Balthazar nudged a cleaning cart in front of the door, trying to barricade them in. Brick stayed close to his heels, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why couldn’t you stay calm for once, instead of flying off the handle!” He huffed. “I hope you’re happy how you’ve hurt your cause forever, I hope you think you’re clever.”

“I hope you’re happy how you would grovel in submission to feed your own ambition!” Balthazar shot back. “I can’t imagine how, but I hope you’re happy!”

Brick sighed in frustration, plucking a broom from the cleaning cart. “This is ridiculous. How much help are you planning to supply to the animals you care so much about while you’re locked in a broom closet?” His expression softened, as did his voice, “Balthy, just go say you’re sorry. You’ve worked so hard for this. You can still have everything you ever wanted.”

Balthazar couldn’t fidget with his hands while holding the book so he paced instead, checking out their circumstances. There wasn’t a lot that could aid a daring escape-especially considering there was only one entry point, currently barricaded with cleaning supplies. “I don’t want it anymore. I can’t want it, not-not now. I don’t need it-I don’t need him.” He sat down, placing the book on the floor. He returned to the page the wizard had pointed him towards and checked the pages surrounding it for any help. He tried to convince the both of them, “It’s fine, Brick, we’ll just-let’s fly out of here! Right? You and me, flying out of this place, like a couple of-a couple of angels. Avenging angels. If I can do it a monkey, I can do it to myself.”

“See, when you say it like that, you sound like a total nutjob.” Brick complained, but there was serious concern lining his voice. “I know you’re upset, but you’re having delusions of grandeur. Some rules you can’t break. Like, nature’s rules.”

“I got that, but how can I know for sure until I try?” Balthazar tried to figure out how he should hold his arms if he was casting at himself. The magic bubbled up a little oddly due to his panic and seemed to fizzle out before it had the chance to do anything. Balthazar did not feel any wings growing out of his back. He wrung his hands together. “Oh, it didn’t work. Of course it didn’t work. Who said I was good at magic, the wizard? Of course he’s wrong about everything. What was I thinking?”

“Calm down, idiot,” Brick snapped him out of his spiraling. He held out the broom, tentatively letting go to show how it remained in place, hovering a few inches above the ground. They both stared at it, almost mesmerized. “It worked just fine.”

Before they could count that as a victory, they heard Mr. Block’s voice boom overhead, over all of the city, “Beware the wicked witch with skin like dragon eyes! He made an attempt on the life of our wizard and is still among us! He’s a danger to us all and must be taken in to custody immediately! If you see a young man with green skin and his accomplice, do not fall for their lies, and do your part to keep our beautiful Oz safe! Beware the wicked witch!”

“Oh, that’s us. That’s definitely us, right?” Brick was beginning to panic now. “Oh, this is bad. This is real bad. It’s his word against ours-and he’s the wizard! This is so bad. What are you gonna do?”

Balthazar grabbed the broom, moving it around experimentally and turning it sideways. He was no longer so terribly nervous. He spoke with confidence, “I think I’m gonna try defying gravity.”

“You’re kidding. You're not kidding.” Brick said it out loud to confirm it. “Great. Awesome. Even if this works, what do you think it’s going to do? There’s nowhere in Oz you can run to.”

“It’s okay,” Balthazar told him, and it wasn’t just an attempt to calm himself down. “I feel like something inside me has changed. I was so scared before, scared of breaking their rules, scared of losing love I didn’t even have in the first place! _That’s_ not love,” he motioned in the vague direction of the wizard, “and even if it is, it comes at too much of a cost. I’d sooner buy that I can fly out of this place, sitting on a broom. I’m not scared anymore. I know what I have to do.”

Brick wanted to talk him down, but he knew it was impossible. Balthazar had a new determination inside of him, and it was only going to get stronger. It would be admirable, if it wasn't so stupid. Brick let out a breath and nodded, wordlessly relenting. Balthazar continued, “You don’t have to be scared, either. Imagine what we could do together. It’s unlimited. We would be unlimited. No one would be able to touch us. We’d be safe, and we could save everybody else too. We wouldn’t need any phony wizard or double-crossing teacher. It would be-just us.”

Brick laughed softly, and for once the sound was genuine and didn’t make Balthazar want to wince. His fingers grazed the handle of the broom, fitting perfectly next to Balthazar’s hands. “Just us, defying gravity.”

There was a beat of silence. “Well? Are you coming?” Balthazar asked hopefully. Brick grabbed the Grimoire off the floor, and Balthazar climbed onto the broom. Brick held the book out for him, and he took it, putting it under one arm and using the other hand to hold the broom. Brick paused. He did not get on with him.

“I hope you’re happy.” Brick told him, and this time he meant it.

Balthazar smiled sadly. He could’ve used a friend by his side, but he understood. “You too. I really hope you get what you want.”

“And you don’t live to regret it.” Brick finished for him, sharing the sentiment. He then removed the cart blocking the door. He opened the door and Balthazar flew out first, trying to figure out how to fly it as it happened. Fortunately, it was rather intuitive. Guards pooled into the hallway, grabbing Brick instantaneously.

“He’s not the one you want!” Balthazar yelled.

He let out an internal sigh of relief when the guards let go of Brick, but then realized he had to split as they turned their full attention to him. The high ceilings aided in his escape, the castle just a blur of green as he accelerated out of there. The rain had stopped outside, and the fresh air gave him an additional boost of adrenaline. Even if he was flying solo, at least he was flying free. The sensation of flying was exhilarating, so much so he couldn’t help but let out a wild laugh that evolved into a full-on cackle. He watched the guards swarm beneath him, and the citizens of the city running from him like frightened mice. “If you care to find me, look to the western skies!”

His future seemed clear again. No one who’d like to ground him would be able to reach him. Soon he’d match them in renown, and nobody in all of Oz, not any wizard there is or was, was ever going to be able to bring him down.


	6. Thank Goodness

* * *

As the years passed, Balthazar and Brick made names for themselves.

Brick and Vinnie rode together in a curtained carriage to avoid drawing attention to themselves too early. Everybody in Oz knew Brick’s face and they could hardly stop for every fan. Brick fussed over Dakota. Fixing his hair, adjusting his collar. Vinnie was compliant, if not a little vacant. His mind had been elsewhere for a very long time.

“We couldn’t be happier, right, dear?” Brick giggled as he brushed imaginary dust off him for the umpteenth time. “Won’t you smile for me? Today’s a big day! The captain of the wizard’s guard, that’s a big deal! Oh, I bet your father would be happy to see you now. You really should write to him.”

Vinnie sighed and put on a smile, like a bored child whose mother keeps stopping to take pictures. An expression that said ‘okay, I’m doing it, can I go now?’ Brick smiled back, “That’s better! Oh, aren’t things wonderful?”

“Not...really,” Vinnie admitted, “Balthazar is-“

“Can we not talk about him for _one day?_ You know I miss him too, but today isn’t supposed to be sad. It’s supposed to be about us.” Brick grabbed his hand, swinging it gently. “All our dreams are coming true. Look at us! You’re getting the highest promotion possible, I’m working with the wizard, and we’re the prettiest couple in Emerald City.”

“And none of it’s like what you expected,” Vinnie looked up at him with an unreadable expression. The perfect blank canvas for Brick to project onto. But this time he thought he saw judgement. He flinched. A blue eye and a brown eye boring holes into his soul. “Right?”

Brick stopped swinging their hands. He opened his mouth and closed it again. Vinnie nodded. His silence said it all. He continued, “the only reason I’m taking this position is to find him. You know that.”

Brick let go of his hand, his brow furrowed. He spoke curtly, “You’ve been searching for him ever since you learned he was gone and you haven’t found him yet. Have you ever considered that maybe he doesn’t _want_ to be found?”

The carriage rolled to a stop as he said it, and the ambient noise of the wheels gave way to dead silence.

Vinnie did not spare him a glance before pushing past him. “Let’s just get this stupid thing over with.”

Brick tried to follow him closely but as they emerged into the square, he was swarmed by citizens. They were begging for guidance and protection from the wicked witch. He watched as Vinnie got further and further from his grasp. The people pushed and shoved and kept him away, gripping to Brick like a lifeline in the turbulent sea that they created. Everyone was yelling and crying and it was up to Brick to do something about it.

“My fellow ozians, as terrifying as terror is, let’s put our panic aside for just one day,” he grinned, “and celebrate!”

The people immediately relaxed. He could lift even the dreariest of moods. Brick twirled through them, shaking hands and patting backs. “Let’s have a celebration the Brick way!” He giggled. His job was to, above all else, be a source of happiness and goodness, unbridled by the weight of the world. Even if it was crushing him.

“Thank goodness,” people would exclaim, “A day that’s totally wicked witch free, we couldn’t be happier!”

Brick made it up to the stage, gravitating towards the podium but stopping himself before taking the center of attention. Today was about Vinnie. Mr. Block came over with the medal, carefully positioning it on Vinnie’s uniform. Vinnie stared at some point on the horizon, not so much as smiling.

The moment it was pinned to his chest he was ready to scurry, so Brick grabbed his wrist to stop him from running off. Once Vinnie submitted, Brick let go so he could clasp his hands together instead.

“I’m so proud of my darling,” Brick told the gathered Ozians with a dreamy sigh. “It’s so nice to have some happy news for once. And,” Brick held back his excitement in a showy way, where everyone could see it but it still faked a sort of elegance. “That’s not all of the happy news!”

Vinnie laughed with him, muttering under his smile, “What are you talking about?”

Brick ignored his question, plastering on the biggest, most dazzling smile he had ever worn, “Vinnie and I are getting married!”

A banner unfurled from overhead and confetti rained down onto the stage. The people cheered and clapped uproariously. A surprise engagement was so perfectly Brick’s style-particularly when it was a surprise to his fiancé as well. Vinnie looked at him like he had just been shot.

“Isn’t it wonderful? He couldn’t look handsomer and I couldn’t feel humbler and neither of us could be happier!” Brick made a sweeping motion towards the crowd, “And we’re happy to share our fairytale ending vicariously with all of you!”

Vinnie wanted to speak. No, he wanted to scream. But he didn’t. Instead, he bit the inside of his cheek so hard it bled. Mr. Block stepped up to the podium.

“Oh, Brick, we are terribly happy for you. You deserve this. Everyone in Oz knows how kind and brave you are. How _good_. I’d imagine anyone in this audience could recite back the story of when you were first summoned by the wizard.” Mr. Block smiled fondly, as though it were a fond memory. “You didn’t know it yet, but when you bowed before him he revealed that you would work alongside him, officially Brick the good! It was meant to be such a beautiful ceremony, until the wicked witch burst from concealment with a jealous squeal, attempting to attack Oz’s gentlest souls.”

”You know, I‘m pretty sure you told it differently,” Vinnie muttered dryly to Brick, swallowing the bitter taste in his mouth.

Brick laughed, keeping his voice hushed, “can we talk about that later?” 

The audience gasped at the mention of you-know-who. Their unified attention split and suddenly everyone was talking over each other. Shouts arose from the crowd, fearful rumors that the people clung to.

“I hear he can shed his skin like a snake and he’s got an extra eye that watches while he sleeps!”

“I heard rebel animals are helping him, giving him food and shelter!”

“His soul is so impure, pure water will melt him!”

That one gained traction. Soon half the crowd was pleading deliriously for someone to melt him. The red hot fury radiating off of Vinnie certainly would’ve been enough to melt anyone. He hissed, “Water can _melt_ -do you hear that? People are so empty headed-they’re-it’s-I can’t do this.” This time when Brick reached for his arm Vinnie pulled away sharply and stormed off the stage. Brick stumbled a couple of steps after him. He wanted to chase after him, wrap him in his arms and hide away with him until the bad feelings passed. But he couldn’t. He had to be fanciful and bubbly. He wasn’t allowed to feel.

The crowd quieted, and Brick quickly straightened up and sent them a bright smile. He returned to the podium, placing his hands on top of it. “Oh, he’s just getting me a refreshment. He’s so thoughtful that way. With him, with all of you, I simply couldn’t be happier. Well, maybe not simply.” He laughed softly, “Turns out all your dreams coming true might be a little complicated. There’s a bit of a, um, cost, I guess. A few things get...lost. There are bridges you cross you don’t realize you cross until you cross them and you look back because maybe a part of you wants to go back but the bridge is on fire and everything’s on fire and there’s nothing you can do,” his mind took him back to the supplies closet. Balthazar beside him, his eyes sparkling in the low light. His friend, full of giant aspirations and so young. Where did that youth go?

Brick gripped the podium so hard the wood began to splinter. “And it’s like, you lose and you lose and you lose, all for the sake of a dream and the dream happens and maybe it doesn’t thrill like you thought it would. Still, with this perfect finale, who wouldn’t be happier? So I couldn’t be happier. Happy is what happens when your dreams come true!” He laughed boisterously, then asked quieter, “isn’t it?”

There were adoring cheers from the crowd. He could say anything and they wouldn’t listen, not really. They didn’t love him, no matter how much they shouted that they did. 

“Thank goodness!” Brick called out to them, wiping his eyes. “For all this joy!”

During the past few years Balthazar had tried to rally support for his cause, tried to spread the truth, but still found himself flying solo at the end of the day. Often with a boot or two thrown his way. There was only one place left for him to look for aid.

He was hiding in an armoire, broom in one hand and book of spells in the other. The sound was a little muffled, but he was fairly sure the room he was in was empty-save for one other.

He opened the door. “Martin-“

Martin screamed, which was a fair response to someone climbing out of your closet. He sat up quickly in bed, reaching for something, presumably an object he could throw at his intruder.

“Stop screaming, it’s me,” Balthazar tried to put a finger to his lips to shush him, but forgot he was holding things and whacked himself in the face with the broom handle. “I need to talk to father. It’s important.”

Afrer years apart, here was his brother. Sickly pale with dark circles under his eyes. His hair hadn’t lost that untameable cowlick. He was still small and he looked so frail, as though he was still stuck in his teen years. Martin stared at him in disbelief, which Balthazar hoped would turn to tearful joy. It did not. “Father’s dead.”

“What?”

“H-h-he died, Balthazar. Died of shame.” Martin stared at him coldly. “I’m the m-mayor now.”

“Then I need to talk to you.” Balthazar pleaded, trying to ignore the accusation that he was what killed their dad. He could deal with that guilt on another occasion. 

“You didn’t just ruin your life, you kn-know, when you decided to b-b-become ‘the wicked witch of the west.’” Martin laughed humorlessly at the ridiculous title his brother had earned. His laughter died immediately. “Do you know h-how hard it is to run munchkinville when no one trusts you b-because your brother is a traitor? Nothing gets done and the p-people are suffering for it. And I’m s-sicker than ever. I can barely get out of bed some days. You abandoned us.” He coughed. “Gone for years until you w-want something. I’m n-n-not gonna help you.”

“I didn’t mean-it was out of my hands-“ Balthazar knew it was impossible to explain himself. He held the book closer. “Here, let me-I can help. Maybe. Let me try to help.”

He sat down, opening the book on the floor. He glanced between the pages and Martin. “I won’t enchant you, because I’m not great with people but-uh, hmm-oh! Your shoes! I’ll enchant your shoes. Yes, as long as you’ve got them on, you’ll have enough strength to do what you have to.”

Balthazar was getting better at magic. All the practice, he supposed. The hours he spent learning the book, discovering its secrets and his own. His magic flowed red, and the shoes changed to match the shade. He let out a breath and motioned, “Okay! Give them a try.”

Martin slowly got out of bed. He took a few steps. “That’s-that’s incredible. H-h-how did you do that?”

Balthazar pushed the book closer to him. “It’s called the Grimoire, it’s full of spells and I’m really getting the hang of it-there’s so much I can do. And so much more if you would back me-“

“I have to tell Savannah! Oh, she’ll b-be even more in love,” Martin was not listening to him. He called out, “Savannah! C-come quickly!”

Savannah rushed in, “what happened-?” She narrowed her eyes upon noticing Balthazar. “What is he doing here?”

Martin hugged her, keeping his hands on her shoulders. “He w-worked his magic on me, and now I’ll b-be healthier. We can have everything we’ve ev-ev-ever wanted.”

“That’s...that’s perfect,” Savannah moved his hands off her shoulders. “You don’t need me around anymore, I can go to Emerald City before the wedding.”

“What are you saying?” Martin’s face fell. “Wh-what wedding?”

“The man I love and my best friend are getting married and I want to say something-or do something, I don’t know.” Savannah brushed her bangs out of her face. She was already making plans in her head. “I have to be there. If they’re happy together I’ll just give them my best wishes, but I have to try.”

“I’m the man you love,” Martin insisted. Balthazar wished he knew how to magically disappear.

Savannah sighed, sitting down on the bed and motioning for Martin to join her. She tried to choose her words cautiously. “Listen...you’re sweet, but this...this isn’t love. You needed someone to take care of you and I was the only one around who could help, but it was never like that. I’m sorry if you feel misled.”

Martin was not in love with Savannah. But he didn’t know that. He had never been wanted before, and he clung to the sensation. The idea that a stranger could look at him affectionately was strange and beautiful, and he didn’t want to lose it, because it was the closest thing to love he knew.

“No,” Martin kept at it, “You love me. That’s why you asked me to the d-d-dance.”

She looked away guiltily. “I only went with you because I felt sorry for you. I know that isn’t fair, but it’s the truth. I wanted to go with someone else but so did a person I care about so...so I sacrificed my happiness for his. That’s what love is, hurting your heart for someone else. It kinda sucks.”

The one nice thing in Martin’s life had been a lie. “If pity is all your heart is good for, then m-maybe you shouldn’t have one at all!” He spat, leaping out of bed and grabbing the Grimoire.

Balthazar’s eyes widened. “Martin, don’t-!”

Before he could try to find a spell to fit his betrayed soul, the Grimoire took over. Martin’s arms shook violently as the power of the spellbook filled him, his eyes turning black. His veins pulsed through his skin, and Savannah suddenly clutched her chest.

Martin’s eyes faded back and he collapsed limply. Savannah tried to get up, but leaned heavily against the nightstand, gasping painfully.

Balthazar ran to his brother’s side, broom clattering to the floor. Martin stared up at him, voice weaker than ever before, “I didn’t mean to…please…fix this…”

He darted to the book, trying to find some kind of miracle solution. His mind was racing. He would be weighing the options if he had any. He couldn’t undo what had been done, he couldn’t bring back Savannah’s heart. But he could try to turn her into something that didn’t need a heart.

He casted quickly, the magic barely leaving his fingertips before he grabbed his things and ran. He didn’t look back, afraid of the mess he created. There went his last chance at any kind of tangible support. There was nowhere left for him to find help, but he knew where he had to go next.


	7. Wonderful

Balthazar didn’t know what to do. What he should do or what he  _ could _ do. His options were disappearing fast enough to make his head spin. The big picture was just too big. So he broke it into more reasonable chunks. He’d start small, even if it wasn’t a start at all. It was just mending a mistake. Even if it didn’t count for anything, he’d be a little lighter and fly a little easier with a clear conscience.

So, Balthazar went to where he was the least expected-the wizard’s castle. It was so stupid, maybe no one would even think to look for him there. He considered that as he snuck around, trying to find the imprisoned monkeys. Winged monkeys, thanks to him. But he couldn’t dwell on that. This was his chance to make things better. 

He found the room with the cages, the bars reaching from the floor to the high ceiling. The monkeys were shouting and clanging, but they didn’t seem to take notice of Balthazar. From the looks of it, all it would take to set them free was flipping a switch. Finally, things seemed to being going Balthazar’s way.

He reached for the switch. A heavy red curtain suddenly fell, hiding the cages from view and muffling the sounds completely. He pulled back, twisting around to face whoever had caught him.

He craned his neck to look up at the wizard’s face. The evil glee he expected to see was absent. Instead, the wizard looked at him kindly. “Welcome back, Balthazar.” He spoke sweetly. “I trust your flight here was smooth?”

Balthazar backed up, pressed against the curtain. He clutched his broom tightly to his chest, trying to map out the best possible escape route. “Save it,” his voice did not come out as strong as he hoped it would. “You’re not going to trick me.”

The wizard laughed. “I’m not trying to trick anybody! There’s nothing up my sleeves,” He lifted a leafy arm, “I don’t even have sleeves! And I’m not going to ambush you, either. There’s no guards outside. Just you and me.”

“Why would I believe that?” Balthazar meant to laugh to show him he was just a big powerless joke, but it came out nervous. 

“Because I want to talk to you. I want,” he stepped back to give Balthazar some breathing room. “To give you a second chance. You didn’t just stick out to me because of your magic, you know. Block told me all about you-how brilliant you were! The people of Oz aren’t exactly the brightest folks, which I’m sure you’ve seen.” He glanced over Balthazar, and he felt like his skin was glowing. “They’re fearful, and hateful, and frankly, they need guiding hands to tell them how to survive without tearing each other to pieces. I came to this world by chance.”

He began to walk around the room, telling his story with the gentle theatrics of a grandfather. “I didn’t plan this out, I’m no conqueror. No wizard, either. I was just plain ol’ me, and the Ozians needed someone to believe in. They asked me to be wonderful, so I became wonderful. Me, wonderful! Oz is really something else. You know, where I come from, people  _ eat  _ pistachios.”

Balthazar blanched, unable to hide his horror. “That’s barbaric.”

“So I got carried away! Can you blame me? They think I’m wonderful!” The wizard laughed, placing a too friendly hand on Balthazar’s shoulder. “This arrangement they set up is beneficial for all parties. They need me to lead and protect them, and I need them to be the family I never got to have.”

“You lied to them,” Balthazar shrugged off his hand, taking a few steps away from him, and consequently, away from the curtain. The monkeys. He had to stay focused. The wizard was a showman, talking his way out of problems is what he was best at. If Balthazar wasn’t paying enough attention, he’d be behind bars before he even suspected he was being conned. 

“Balthazar, where I’m from, people believe all sorts of things that aren’t true. They call it history. And it’s written by the victors. Moral ambiguities frighten people, and you know the terrors frightened people are capable of. So, whoever wins gets to say they were right, and the losers were wrong. It’s the price for peace of mind, a price the general public has willingly paid over and over.”

The wizard kneeled, so they were closer to eye level. His voice was soft, “You’re terribly smart, my dear boy. You know you don’t deserve the cards you’ve been handed in life, but you’re too young to realize that it’s okay to cheat. Everybody else does it, so why should you have to suffer? People will always be people, but that doesn’t mean you have to live at the business end of their pitchforks.With my help, they’ll call you wonderful too. The most celebrated are the rehabilitated. Can you imagine it? The wicked witch, turned good! Here to help! Why, there’d be a celebration all through Oz that’s all about you.”

Balthazar could imagine it. He imagined it so clearly it felt real. Like he could reach out and touch it. It was just like his vision, all those years ago when he first started training to meet the wizard. So he could be here. With the wizard smiling at him, proud of him. He deserved to be looked at with pride. He had worked  _ so  _ hard. He had always done what he thought was right. He was a good person, and he deserved to be treated that way. Not like a freak, or a monster. 

“That does sound wonderful,” Balthazar breathed. So the wizard wasn’t perfect. Who was? Why deny himself what he’s earned any longer?

“Trust me, it’s fun!” The wizard stood up, dancing goofily around the room to a cheery tune he hummed. Balthazar chuckled, following him around with a sway. The wizard took his hand, twirling him. He spun until he bumped into something, flipping right over it. 

The wizard was still dancing as Balthazar sat up, trying to figure out what he tripped over. It was person sized bump, covered in a robe. He lifted it a little, and, much to his surprise, found Mahlson underneath. He must’ve wandered in while he and the wizard were, well, distracted.

Balthazar laughed pleasantly, “It seems I can’t run into you without actually running into you, huh? How have you been?”

His old teacher  _ baaaa _ ed at him, eyes making up for their lack of recognition with fear. He started to crawl away. 

“Hey, hey, wait, don’t-don’t be scared, I’m your friend,” Balthazar reached out for him, but stopped. Mahlson couldn’t talk anymore. It was the wizard’s fault. And here was Balthazar, celebrating alongside him. Dreaming of joining him. A pit formed in his stomach. He whispered, “No, I’m no friend at all. I’m sorry.”

The wizard made his way over. Mahlson cowered. “Oh, sorry about that! Forgot to close the door behind me, I suppose. Don’t mind him, he’s nosy, but he doesn’t bite.” 

“Right,” Balthazar swallowed thickly. He felt like he was in a horror story, but stayed calm. He had been tricked, but he had the advantage now. The wizard thought he still had him. He could use this. Balthazar stood up, humming the same tune the wizard had. “So, what does it take to be wonderful?”

Balthazar walked over to the curtain as the wizard enjoyed the sound of his own boisterous voice. As quickly as he could, he slipped behind the curtain and threw the switch, the wall behind the cage opening to clear sky. The monkeys took flight.

“Yes!” Balthazar pumped his fist in the air. He had done it. He earned this cackle. “Fly! Fly, my pretties!”

The curtain opened, and the wizard was glowering down at him. “Guards!” He yelled, making Balthazar flinch. He lunged between the wizard’s legs, and took off running. He couldn’t find Mahlson. He must’ve run off. Balthazar didn’t have time to try and find him. 

Luckily for him, it hadn't been a lie when the wizard said there were no guards outside the room waiting to spring into action. Still, there were guards around, guards within yelling distance, so he had to act fast. He ran without thinking, and ended up at a dead end. Over the sound of his muttered curses at himself he heard footsteps, so he readjusted the broom in his hand so he’d able to cast at any guards that showed up. 

Turning the corner, there was the last person Balthazar expected to see, and he immediately dropped his defenses. 

Vinnie.

Oh, if only he had the words to describe Vinnie. Or to describe the feeling in his chest when he saw him. He wasn’t less pretty than Balthazar remembered, despite Balthazar’s fears that the image in his head was over romanticized. If anything, the years had made him prettier. Vinnie smiled, and all Balthazar wanted was to run to his arms. His beautiful, strong, uniform-wearing arms. The good feelings vanished at the sight of the uniform.

Vinnie’s arms dropped to his sides, and he fought his own urge to run to Balthazar, opting for a quick walk instead. “I like the mustache.” He said. Of course he’d say that. Balthazar wanted to shut him up with kisses.

“I don’t like the uniform.” Balthazar shot back, eyes narrowed and heart racing so fast he feared it would vibrate his chest, shake his very bones and make it look like he was trembling. Or maybe he actually was trembling. He didn't know what he'd do if Vinnie tried to take him in. If Vinnie attacked him. 

“Aw, don’t look at me like that!” Vinnie chuckled. He wouldn’t stop staring. He had years of not seeing Balthazar he had to make up for. “I’m not with him. Of course I’m not with him. I’m-with you. I’ve always been with you.”

“Oh.” was all Balthazar managed to say.

Now Vinnie was very close to him. Neither of them realized how close Vinnie was until right then. Balthazar held his breath, like Vinnie was a dandelion he didn’t want to scatter. A would-be wish he couldn’t lose. Not now. 

“I’m not going to stop you from escaping,” Vinnie looked at him like he hung up the stars in the night sky every evening, just for him. He looked at him like he himself was a heavenly body, fallen before him as a beautiful mistake. He looked at him like he was in love. “I would never stop you from escaping, just-if you would allow it, please take me with you.”

Now it was Balthazar’s turn to stare, but they were both staring, so really they were gazing into each other’s eyes like there was no tomorrow. “You have so much to lose.”

“But everything to gain,” Vinnie wrapped his arms around him suddenly, and Balthazar held him. How nice it was to hold him. He fit perfectly in his arms. 

“Balthy?”

They looked to the end of the hallway, where Brick stood. He ran a hand through his hair, relief replaced with worry. It wasn’t a good look on him. His forehead creased, and his mouth seemed unremarkable when it wasn’t plastered in a smile. 

“What are you…?” He stepped closer. 

Vinnie knew this was his chance, and this was his only chance. 

“Balthazar,” Vinnie turned back to him. “All I see is you. All I want is you. I love you.”

If Balthazar had been thinking straight, he would’ve realized this was a bad time for a confession. He would’ve explained to Brick he had no idea they were engaged, nor that Vinnie had secretly been in love with him this whole time. They would’ve all had a long talk about their feelings, and figure out what would be best for all of them, and at the very least leave as friends. Well, that was a lofty possibility. They didn’t have that much time. 

But it didn’t matter anyway, because his unrequited crush just told him he loved him. He loved him! Balthazar didn’t think of his dear friend’s feelings for a moment, because his heart was exploding into fireworks and he could barely think at all. 

Vinnie shared his lack of forethought, because Vinnie truthfully didn’t think a lot about anything. It was part of his charm. This painful lack of awareness of other people could be forgiven when it came to him. And if Brick blamed him for not being in love, then some of that blame would be on him, too. 

Brick was not feeling quite as forgiving towards Balthazar, the man stealing back stabbing bitch of a witch. 

Everyday Brick spent worrying over him, and Balthazar had just been plotting to steal his fiance. He was betrayed. And it  _ hurt _ , more intensely than any other pain ever inflicted upon him.

"This whole time?" That was all he could say. His voice was strained. It hurt more to talk, hurt like razors to admit this wasn't just a bad dream. 

Blue eyes focused on him for a moment. Was there pity there? Did this cheating _worm_ really have the nerve to pity him, or did he not see him at all? What was he looking at? What was he hoping to say?

“We have to go,” Vinnie told the rattlesnake, breaking him out of whatever strange trance he was in. He took his slimy hand and ran with him, ran right past Brick. If Vinnie looked back at him, if he had spoken one last word in his direction, Brick didn't notice. He was suddenly very numb. 

There was no point in dreaming. He couldn’t start wishing. Wishing would only wound the heart. And oh, was his heart wounded. It felt like it was caving in on itself. Vinnie was perfect (though perhaps not perfect for Brick, Brick realized later along, when he was not suffering so freshly from heartbreak). He chose a man to love, and he loved him so. And Brick was not that man.

The wizard and Mr. Block were hurrying around, stopping when they spotted Brick. “He’s gone,” Brick choked out. “They’re both, um, gone.” 

“He’s impossible to catch!” The wizard spat. “Within my own castle walls, no one could get him!”

“He has to have some weakness,” Mr. Block pointed out coldly. “No one can run forever.”

“His brother.” Brick spoke suddenly. He sniffled, facing away. He continued rigidly, “If he thought his brother was in danger, he’d come back. Just-I don't know, spread some rumor.”

Brick left, needing time to himself. Once he was out of earshot, the wizard smirked at Mr. Block. “I can almost hear the gears in turning in your brain.”

Mr. Block grunted noncommittally. He lifted a hand, a small whirlwind forming above it. “It's not too stupid of a plan, but anyone who knows that boy knows he wouldn't be tricked by a simple rumor.”


	8. No Good Deed

Balthazar and Vinnie were back in the woods where they released the lion cub a lifetime ago. The forest was vast, and the moment you stepped off a path you disappeared. No matter how immense your world seemed, the moment you stepped between the branches, you’d realize just how small you are. It was a good place for people on the run.

A fog was rolling in, and a lantern Vinnie had snatched from the castle was their only source of light beneath the canopy. Even if the thick patches of leaves were chopped away, the night was moonless. If they were anyone else, with anyone else, it might’ve felt eerie. But they were them, and they were with each other, so it looked like paradise.

Vinnie shed the jacket of his uniform as quickly as possible as they ran, leaving only his tank top on. Balthazar wanted to sit and trace the royal markings on his arms, but he kept running instead. They kept running until they couldn’t anymore, until they were as close to safe as they were going to be.

They caught their breath, Balthazar setting down his broom against a tree and placing the Grimoire next to it. They had wordlessly agreed this was the perfect spot to rest. He closed his eyes, breathing in the forest. He exhaled slowly. He turned around, meeting eyes with Vinnie, illuminated softly by the light of the lantern. Balthazar felt the urge to lecture him about fire safety, and tell him setting a lit lantern on the forest floor was dangerous business, but Vinnie had other plans.

He bridged the gap between them, standing on his tiptoes and cupping Balthazar’s face. His touch was tender, and Balthazar didn't even realize how much he craved it. Now, he felt like he would wither away if left untouched for more than a minute. Vinnie looked at him with wonder, lips parted, “You’re beautiful.”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” Balthazar mumbled, face getting hot. He leaned down, so their mouths were just a breath away. They were so close now, so close at last. He could smell Vinnie. He smelled like home. Not Balthazar’s home-he wasn’t sure he ever had one-but how home was supposed to be. Earthly and safe, and perhaps a little bit like hay. It was Balthazar’s favorite scent, but then again, no matter how he smelled, Balthazar would feel that way.

Vinnie chuckled, and he kissed him. He was warm, like magic softer than Balthazar was capable of. In fact, the sensation of kissing was not totally unlike magic; he could feel Vinnie’s silhouette without opening his eyes, filling him with a diluted awareness that came and went in gentle waves. He was in a wade pool, but he suddenly needed a hurricane.

“Harder,” he gasped, and Vinnie pulled away to look up at him, assess his needs. “Oh, kiss me harder than that. Kiss me so fiercely it hurts, or else I won’t be able to believe you’re really here.”

Vinnie pulled him back in, obeying him with vigor. He ran a hand through his hair, keeping the other on the small of his back, pulling him in as close as possible. Closer, closer. Balthazar wanted to melt into him. He reached a hand up Vinnie’s shirt. Vinnie groaned into the kiss, rubbing his leg between Balthazar’s. Balthazar’s knees buckled, his senses turned to butter. They lowered to the pine needle covered ground, Vinnie straddling him in his lap. He looked perfect, and the thought sent a pang of sadness through Balthazar’s chest.

“We don’t stand a chance, do we?” Balthazar kissed his neck. He didn’t want to lose this. He wanted this moment to last forever. And if it couldn’t, he would make each millisecond count.

“Don’t talk like that,” Vinnie panted out, clutching him tighter, “Even if we have no future, as long as right now, you’re mine, that’s all that matters. Even-even if it’s over too soon.”

“I thought you were supposed to be brainless,” Balthazar laughed lightly against his skin, making Vinnie shudder.

“Yeah, well, maybe I’m brainless, maybe I’m wise,” he stroked his hair. “All I know is you’ve casted quite the spell on me.”

Balthazar blinked, straightening up a little. “I-I would never-”

Vinnie pressed a finger to Balthazar’s lips, smiling crookedly. “Relax. I’m just joking. But you are awful cute, all flustered like that.” The hand Vinnie kept on his back trailed a little lower. “Are you really green all over?”

Balthazar wrapped his arms around his shoulders, purring softly, “Why don’t you see for yourself?”

Vinnie grinned at the proposition, giving his butt a squeeze. “Oh, yeah, baby. You’re gonna be screaming my name all night long.”

They kissed again, and each time they did it, it felt more real. Balthazar no longer felt far away, half in a dream. He was there, and so was Vinnie. And Vinnie was his. Despite everything, Vinnie was his.

Balthazar’s breath caught in his throat, and he pressed his forehead against Vinnie’s. He quirked a small smile, and Vinnie giggled, as if they had some inside joke going. Vinnie nudged him back with a gentle headbutt, “What is it?”

Balthazar shrugged playfully, trying to put his finger on it. “It’s just...for the first time, I feel... _wicked_.”

They laughed together. How nice it was to laugh together. It felt as though their existences had lined up like stars, like everything they did was in perfect harmony. Vinnie kissed him, shortly and sweetly, before lowering him onto the ground. With his head arched back, his full trust in the hands laying him down, he watched the mist tumble and dance.

It started to take shape.

Another vision.

“I-I have to go,” Balthazar stuttered out, sitting up in a panic.

“No, no you don’t,” Vinnie’s voice was comforting and unaffected, and Balthazar wanted to wrap himself in it like a blanket, and hide there like a child until the nightmares ran away and he could sleep peacefully. How desperately he wanted to sleep with Vinnie’s arms around him. “ _Stay_.”

For a heartbeat, he considered doing what his lover asked. He kissed him, and that gave Vinnie his answer.

Vinnie cupped Balthazar’s face, eyebrows furrowing. “Where are we going?”

“ _We’re_ not going anywhere,” Balthazar stood up, taking Vinnie’s hands from his face and holding them. Sitting there, confused and concerned, Vinnie looked so small, and Balthazar had to fight every instinct in him telling him to hold him tightly and never let go. “I’ve put you through enough.  _I_ have to go to Munchkinville, my brother-he’s in trouble, I saw it-there’s a-a house-”

“A house?” Vinnie wrinkled his nose, but dropped it, knowing there were more important things to discuss. He held Balthazar’s hands firmer. “Babe, it’s a trap. You know it’s gotta be.”

Balthazar swallowed. His heart was thumping so loudly in his chest it should’ve scared off all the birds in the area. His voice was weak, “I know.”

Vinnie stared up at him hopelessly before nodding, looking away and swallowing hard. “This isn’t the end.”

“I know.”

“I’m serious. Listen, there’s a castle that used to belong to my family-it’s abandoned now, nobody goes there. Meet me there.” He gave him directions, and Balthazar committed them to memory. He tried to commit Vinnie to memory, too. The weight of his hands in his, the taste of his lips, those sad eyes. “We’ll be okay. I love you.”

“I love you,” Balthazar echoed, kissing his knuckles before letting go of his hands. He prayed he wasn’t letting them go for the last time. He hurried over to his things, tucking the spellbook in his cloak and jumping on the broom. He narrowly avoided tree trunks before finding an opening to enter the night sky through.

Vinnie watched him fly, and waited a few minutes after, pretending he could see the horizon and him on it. The noble idiot was going to get himself in more trouble than he could handle. And no one would be there to catch him, if he got knocked off that stupid broom. He’d just be a stupid, green pancake. Vinnie sighed, picking up the lantern, and fingering the hilt of the blade the wizard had so graciously gifted him with.

He would just have to be there to catch him.

Day came. The vision had reached Balthazar too late.

“Bye bye now! You take care! Remember, just follow the yellow brick road!” Brick waved the kid off (and his little dog, too). The munchkins had dispersed, leaving just Brick and the farmhouse that fell out of the sky. He wandered closer, sighing softly. “Oh, Martin. I’m sorry.”

“How touching.”

Brick turned around to see Balthazar, glaring daggers into him. He glared right back. “I didn’t think you were low enough to harass some poor child.”

“And I didn’t think you would murder somebody because you didn’t get the man.” Balthazar hissed.

The accusation hit him like a cement wall. Brick’s own guilty conscience added to it-he never wanted Martin to get hurt, he never wanted him to _die-_ and so he ran over to Balthazar and slapped him across the face. Hard.

Balthazar was silent for a moment, then he cackled, straightening back up. “Feel better?”

Brick sniffled, then nodded a little, truthfully. Balthazar nodded back. “Good.” Then, he slapped him. Harder.

Brick gasped, gingerly touching his cheek. Now that they got that out, the anger receded just a bit, and the hurt was left, stinging far worse than the slaps. “How could you think I had any part in this?” Brick asked.

Before Balthazar could respond, guards jumped out from behind every wall, fence, and bush. They surrounded him. His broom was kicked aside, and he was trapped. His eyes were on Brick, and the fury there was enough to make him shrink back. “You set me up!” He spat, horrified at the concept, which was undeniably grisly. His ex best friend planning to betray him at his brother’s untimely grave.

“Wait-” Brick didn’t know what to say. They had Balthazar, even if it was a horrible way to catch him. After a struggle that lasted for years, they finally caught him. He would look insane if he told them to let him go.

Perhaps fortunately, perhaps not, he didn’t have to tell them to let him go. Someone else did.

“Hands off the green guy!” Vinnie swooped in. Balthazar’s eyes widened, radiating dread. Vinnie took in the situation fully, and ran to Brick. For a moment, Brick let himself believe he was running back to his arms. Instead, he pulled a sword at his throat. Brick did not flinch. He wasn’t scared of Vinnie. One look at him told him everything he needed to know. “Let him go, or the good witch gets it!”

The guards backed away, but Balthazar didn’t look pleased. He stumbled over to them, “No,” he shook his head, “Vinnie, no, I can’t leave you, don’t tell me-don’t tell me to leave you. I can’t do that.”

“Look at that, you know me so well, you can finish my sentences.” Vinnie joked, but his voice trembled.

“I can’t. Don’t make me.” Balthazar teared up, still shaking his head vehemently. “You asked me to stay-”

“Please.” Vinnie looked so scared. That snapped Balthazar back into reality. There would be no happy ending for them. "Please." He repeated. He lowered his sword, and was grabbed roughly by a guard. Everyone started moving at once, and Balthazar had to make his choice quickly, or it would be made for him.

His legs moved on autopilot, and he was back on his broom before he had the chance to exhale. “Vinnie!” He screamed as he watched him get kneed in the chest, making him drop his sword. There were too many of them. The guards swarmed like a dark cloud of wasps.

“No!” Brick cried, trying to push through to Vinnie. He begged, “He wouldn’t-he wasn’t gonna hurt me, he never would’ve hurt me!” But he was ushered away, firmly held back.

“Go string him up in the cornfield!” One of the guards barked. “Leave his body out when you’re finished with him!”

Balthazar flew faster than he knew he could. He made it to the castle where he was supposed to meet back up with Vinnie, flying in through a window. Not waiting until he was close enough to the floor to dismount, he leapt, falling in a heap when his knees gave out on him. He couldn’t feel the burn of his scrapes or the ache of his body, pulling out the Grimoire and flipping through it frantically.

He could save him. He had to save him. He stuck his arms out, reaching for his soul, wherever it laid. There was his silhouette in his mind. Balthazar fueled his pain into his magic, and it felt bigger and stronger than he had ever dared to let it grow. It hurt. It had never hurt before. “Let his blood not be spilled, let his bones never break, and though they beat him, let him feel no pain! No matter how they try to destroy him, let him never die! Let him never die!”

He couldn’t feel him anymore. He didn’t know what that meant. He didn't know anything. All powerful, unlimited, _what a joke!_   What was the point of this magic if he couldn't use it to save Vinnie? None of his tricks mattered if he couldn't do this. He opened his eyes, but he could barely see through his tears. He picked up the spellbook and threw it across the room, screaming in frustration. “I don’t even know what I’m doing! Vinnie, where are you?”

He let out a shaky breath. One more disaster to add to his generous supply. He thought about Martin. If only he had done what his brother asked. Maybe he’d still be here. And Mahlson. His friend told him to play his cards right, to lay low when the situation called for it, but Balthazar had tossed aside his advice, choosing instead to be brash and reckless. And now he was paying the price. And he wasn’t the only one paying.

He had only tried to be good. Why had so much suffering come from that? “No good deed goes unpunished, that’s my new creed.” He gritted through his teeth. His mind returned to Vinnie. He could picture it too viscerally, he could imagine every kick, punch, and stab. Vinnie was already bleeding, and Balthazar had done nothing to stop it. He was already dead.

That brought on a fresh wave of sobs. “ _VINNIE!_ ” He screeched, falling to hysterics. He curled up on the dusty floorboards. He wept until there were no tears left in his body; even then, he continued to shudder and whimper.

“Oh, Vinnie,” he whispered, as though Vinnie were still laying beside him. “Was I ever any good? Or had I just been seeking attention? Is that all a good deed is? Selfish and greedy. If that’s all it is, maybe that’s why no good deed goes unpunished. Maybe that’s why you’re…”

Balthazar sat up, sniffling. His heart was done bleeding, now it was freezing over. He had suffered enough in the name of being good. He'd never let himself hurt like this again.  “Fine! Everybody was right about me, I’m bad and I’m evil and I’m rotten to the core.” The bitterness drained from his voice as he addressed his absent lover, “I promise, if I cannot succeed in saving you, I’ll never do another good deed. I’ll be wicked.”

Balthazar stood slowly, his legs still shaky. There was work to be done.


	9. The Wizard of Oz Interlude

“Aw, geez, Diogee,” Milo heaved a sigh. “I never meant to hurt anybody. I didn’t want to end up in Oz in the first place. Not that it’s a bad place, it seems very nice, but I wanna go home. I don’t want anybody worrying about me. And now that scary witch is mad at me.”

Diogee snuffled sympathetically. Milo kicked a rock, watching it roll off the yellow brick road and into the grass, stopping at the base of a cornstalk.

“Enough, enough! Shoo! Get outta here!”

Milo jumped at the voice, trying to find its owner. He glanced at Diogee, who was staring pointedly. Milo looked where he was looking, only to see a scarecrow. It wasn’t a very good scarecrow, seeing as there were crows lining its arms, picking at its hay. To Milo’s surprise, the scarecrow started to talk, “C’mon, get offa me!”

If he hadn’t seen a man fly in a bubble, this would be the strangest thing Milo had ever seen. He quickly stepped off the path and through the stalks of corn, waving his arms at the birds so they’d leave the poor scarecrow alone. They flew, and the scarecrow smiled at him. “Thanks, kiddo. Mind helpin’ me down?” He glanced at the post that held him up.

“Sure, mister. My name’s Milo.” Milo didn’t get a chance to ask his name before the scarecrow went tumbling to the ground. “Oh no, are you hurt?”

The scarecrow sat up, stuffing some fallen hay back into his clothes. Diogee came over to sniff him. “Nah, I’m alright. I can take a real beating, bein’ made a straw like this. Can’t feel a thing of it, and can always be put back together.” He patted at his belly satisfactorily once he got the hay back in, but paused. He reached inside, rummaging around. “D’you think I eat? I don’t think I’ve got a stomach.”

Milo couldn’t help but giggle at his antics. “How have you been alive this long without knowing if you need to eat? Oh! If you don’t have a stomach, you must not have a brain either. I’m going to see a wizard who can do all sorts of wonderful things to see if he can help me get home. Maybe if you came with, he could get you a brain!”

“You know, Milo, it’s not very nice to go around and accuse people of not having brains.” But the scarecrow stopped to consider. A smile grew on his face. He pet Diogee’s head as he continued, “But in this case, you’re absolutely right. I don’t have a brain, but I sure could use one. That wizard sounds like, uh, a real swell fella. If you’ll have me, I’d love to be your travelling partner.”

“Of course!” Milo helped him to his feet, but he fell back over almost immediately.

The scarecrow chuckled. “Sorry, it’s not just my head that’s full of air.”

Milo helped him up again, this time linking their arms together to help him keep upright. “We’re off to see the wizard!” Milo sang cheerfully as they took off, and the scarecrow joined in after a while.

Things were going fine until Diogee ran off the road, woofing. “Diogee, no! We’re supposed to stay on the yellow brick road!” Milo scolded as he followed him, which meant the scarecrow followed too. Diogee sat down, wagging his tail. Next to him was a metal statue of a very pretty woman. She moved a little bit, making Milo and the scarecrow jump.

“Do you think she’s stuck?” Milo glanced around, then unhooked his arm from the scarecrow to grab the oil can laying nearby. “Good job finding her, Diogee!” He started applying oil to her joints. As he worked, he introduced them, “My name is Milo. I’m not from Oz, and I’m trying to get home. That’s my dog, Diogee. And that’s the scarecrow. He doesn’t have a brain.”

The scarecrow just stared at her. “I feel like I know you. Your face is sorta familiar...did we go to the same school or something?”

“We couldn’t have possibly.” The tin woman spoke. She didn’t look very impressed, but they didn’t know how many facial expressions she could make. “I didn’t go to clown school.”

“Hey, that’s not a very nice thing to say.” Milo scolded her gently.

“You just introduced me as brainless.”

“Sorry,” she said to Milo, ignoring the scarecrow. “I’m not very good at being nice, because I don’t have a heart anymore.” She tapped her chest, and the sound was hollow.

“That’s so sad!” Milo covered his mouth with his hands. “What happened to it?”

“The wicked witch destroyed it.” She spat. “If I got my hands on that witch, I swear I’d-”

“We’re going to see the wizard.” Milo interrupted, too excited to wait. “Maybe he can make you a new heart!”

“Can’t hurt to try.” The tin woman shrugged, and it made a clink sound. Milo grabbed the scarecrow’s arm again, and offered her the other. She accepted it, and they returned to the road, Diogee leading the charge.

They didn’t get far before the witch himself descended from the sky. “There you are! Just hand over the shoes, brat! You weirdos can scram!”

Milo gasped. The tin woman wordlessly leaned down and picked up a rock, throwing it at the witch. She just barely missed, and immediately grabbed another rock. The witch sneered, “Don’t mess with me, I’ll make a beehive out of you. And you, scarecrow! I’ll turn you into a mattress!” He turned to the scarecrow, and cackled, “How about a little fire?”

He threw a fireball before flying off. The scarecrow made no effort to dodge, still entranced by the witch. Paralyzed with fear, no doubt. Milo and the tin woman quickly put him out.

“So what does he want with your shoes?” The tin woman asked, stomping on the scarecrow a little more than necessary to stifle the fire.

“Why’d he set me on fire?” the scarecrow asked hopelessly.

“Well, they’re not really my shoes.” Milo sat down and Diogee got in his lap. He needed the comfort. “I crushed another witch with my house and their shoes magically appeared on my feet.”

“You crushed a witch with your house?” The tin woman gave him a fistbump, which he hesitantly reciprocated. “That’s bada-I mean, awesome.”

“He set me on fire.” The scarecrow continued in disbelief.

“Not on purpose.” Milo admitted to her. “It was an accident, and I really do feel awful about the whole thing.”

“Oh, I’m a scarecrow!” The scarecrow realized, a little loudly.

“Uh, yes. Yes you are.” Milo gave him a supportive thumbs up. It couldn’t be easy to not have a brain.

The scarecrow stood up, wobbling. Diogee jumped off Milo’s lap so he could steady his friend. “When we get to the Emerald City, I’ll write a letter.”

“We don’t care.” The tin woman assured him. “But speaking of the city, we better keep moving. These woods are dangerous at night. There’s lions and tigers and bears.”

“Oh my.” Milo responded appropriately. They walked, keeping close to protect one another from the dangers of the night. A threatening growl pervaded the woods, and they were pressing against each other now. The hay was tickling Milo’s nose, and he sneezed, making the other two jump.

“Don’t scare us like that.” The scarecrow gave his arm a squeeze. They all laughed nervously, but they fell into stiff silence as the bushes close to them started rustling. Out jumped a ferocious lion, and he was met with screaming. He growled back.

“That kid is a walking safety hazard!” The screams died and they got a better look at the lion. He was a scrawny thing, with an awkwardly stringy mane. “Wherever he goes is where the witch is gonna go! He’s a threat to every creature in these woods!”

The tin woman frowned. “It’s not his fault-”

“Oh, believe me, you two aren’t much better.” He prowled over to the scarecrow. “I don’t think I have to mention the obvious combustion hazard, but imagine if it rains! Do you want damaged hay on your hands? It could lead to mold.” He poked the scarecrow with a claw, which was forceful enough to topple him over.

“You stop that!” Milo got between the lion and the scarecrow. “You’re not helping anyone stay safe by going around being a big bully. If all you do is pick on people, you’re nothing but...but a coward!”

The lion flinched and whimpered. As Milo helped the scarecrow up, the tin woman continued to stare down the lion. “You know, I think I heard about this guy, running around the forest, harassing people. The witch didn’t let him fight his own battles as a kid, so he never learned how to be brave.”

“Well, maybe the wizard could help him find some courage.” Milo smiled warmly at him, “Do you want to come with us?”

The lion glanced to the others for help, but received none. “F-fine. I’ll come with, but don’t think I’ll let safety violations slide just because you invited me.”

“You know, he was a lot cuter as a cub.” The scarecrow remarked, earning a look from Milo that told him to be nice.

“Come on, we're almost out of the woods, I can feel it.” Milo assured his new friends with determined optimism. “Once we meet the wizard, everything will be fine.”

Everything was not fine when they met the wizard.

“He wants us to kill somebody,” Milo despaired, still in disbelief. They walked out of the castle, resting on the emerald steps. Diogee whined with him. “I can’t kill somebody!”

“You killed that other witch,” The tin woman pointed out. If they really were going to carry this through, it was a good time to not have a heart. “Why not one more?”

“Everything would be a lot safer if he was dead,” The lion agreed, albeit with some hesitation. This was more due to cowardice than a strong moral backbone. With the scarecrow off sending his letter, Milo was feeling outnumbered.

Before he had the chance to try and explain to them murder was bad, there was the sudden sound of hundreds of flapping wings from above. Milo looked up to see a swarm blotting out the sun. Creatures-monkeys, with horrible bat wings-swooped down and grabbed him. He screamed as he was lifted off the ground, carried away into the sky before the tin woman or lion could do anything. The scarecrow stumbled back over, toppling over several times in his rush. It didn’t matter, Milo was already gone. Diogee whined and ran in anxious circles.

“Why’d he kidnap a kid?” The scarecrow sounded disappointed. The tin woman clenched her fists.

“Because he’s wicked, scarecrow,” she explained to the simpleton, hissing her words. “For once I’m glad I’m heartless, I’ll be heartless killing him.” She marched in the direction of the witch’s castle, where Milo had been stolen away to. She barked back at her bumbling partners, “C’mon!”

The lion and the scarecrow hurried after her. Diogee ran ahead of all of them, leading the charge to get his boy back. The sound of the tin woman’s creaking joints and her promise to bring back the head of the witch echoed through the Emerald City, met with bloodthirsty encouragement.

“Kill the witch!” The townspeople yelled to them. “Good fortune, witch hunters!”

Word travelled quickly, reaching the ears of the good witch, who knew he had to do something. Just what exactly that something was, well, that was a good question.

 


	10. For Good

“Mr. Block,” Brick cried out, barreling his way into his office. Mr. Block stood at the window, looking out over the Emerald City. It looked peaceful from this high up. You’d have no idea of the bloodthirst overtaking the streets from this high up. You could pretend everything was fine. Brick had hidden amongst the clouds long enough. “Mr. Block, they’re going to kill him.”

Mr. Block glanced over his shoulder, and snorted gruffly, more out of acknowledgment than humor. “What of it?”

“What of it?” Brick echoed, laughing in disbelief. He stomped closer, spitting, “He’s going to die, that’s _what of it._ Martin already-he’s gone, you can’t just let-“ Brick stopped mid sentence, realization chilling him like ice in his veins. His eyes got wide. “...you control weather. You caused that tornado. You…” his words started sticking in his throat. How hard it was to speak of a murder you were complacent in.

“And?” Mr. Block turned around. His lips twitched, nearly a dark smile. “I’m not the only one with blood on my hands, am I? Poor little brat, never knew how good he had it. I wonder if word has reached the Winkie king yet.”

Brick flinched, fury being devoured by guilt. “Stop it,” he whimpered. “You’re a monster.”

“Did he bleed blue?” Mr. Block looked back out the window. “He’s lucky his skin wasn’t blue, too, or else he might’ve lived a miserable life just like our wicked witch. At least he enjoyed himself, right? Tell yourself that, and maybe you’ll get over it quicker.”

Brick couldn’t take this lack of humanity anymore. He ran out of the office, and kept running. He was out of options, he was full of grief and despair, and when you feel like that, the only place you can go is to a friend.

He just prayed he wasn’t too late.

“What’s wrong with you?” Balthazar yelled through the trap door, still hoping the greedy kid would have a change of heart if he scared him bad enough, “Just give me the stupid shoes!”

There was no response. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wished he could go down there and yank those ruby slippers off himself, but they were enchanted shoes. You can’t steal enchanted shoes, they have to be gifted to you. He hated magic, truly, because apparently murdering someone and thieving their belongings off their corpse didn’t count as stealing.

“Balthy?”

His head snapped up at the sound. Brick was standing in the stairwell, outfit glimmering like the night sky, and eyes just as bright. Balthazar’s heart betrayed him by aching at the sight of him.

“What are you doing here?” His voice came out hoarser than he would’ve liked. It was all the shouting. He cleared his throat, then ran a hand through his hair. It was getting pretty stringy. That was a nice thing about being evil. People didn’t really care if you were keeping up your appearance. Balthazar could look as scary and disheveled as he desired, the resulting terror would be the same. The trouble arose when someone who wasn’t afraid of you showed up. Then you just looked pitiful.

“You’re in danger,” Brick warned him, voice quick and hushed, as if an army was already at the door, “Just let the little boy go. Please.”

Balthazar was surprised by the desperation in his voice. But he was unmoved. His eyes fluttered to the floor. “No,” he croaked, clearing his throat again. “He killed my brother. I just want the shoes. They don’t even belong to him. That’s more than fair.”

Brick swallowed. He recognized Balthazar’s resolve. Just like when they were tucked away in that closet. He had made up his mind, he was ready to fly or just crash to the earth-whatever happens will happen, and nobody could change that. Not even the good witch.

A monkey appeared in the window, screeching and scaring the daylights out of Brick, who helped accordingly. The monkey gave an envelope to Balthazar, who thanked it quietly as it flew off again. Balthazar opened it, eyes scanning the paper with the voracity of a starving man feasting. He gasped softly, and a look crossed his face-a look Brick knew too well, unfortunately.

“Is it Vinnie?” Brick asked, but he knew the answer.

Balthazar nodded slowly, folding the piece of paper back into the envelope and slipping it into his cloak. “I’m afraid you’ll never see his face again.”

It hit Brick like a slap in the face, but he knew. He knew. He can’t choke back the sob as it pours out of him.

“...I’m limited,” Balthazar laughed weakly. His hand was over his heart, over the letter. “Look at all I couldn’t do.”

Brick couldn't stop crying. The tears just rushed out of him. Years of hiding his emotions were paying off in the worst possible way. He couldn’t get a word out.

“So now it’s up to you,” Balthazar continued, speaking gently. He placed a hand on Brick’s shuddering shoulder. “You have to make things right. Be good-you’re very good at it.”

Brick pulled him into a tight embrace, burying his face in his chest and squeezing him like the world was falling apart around them. Like he was his friend and that was all that mattered. Balthazar jolted at first, but relaxed into his touch. He stroked his hair. “Because I knew you, because you were my friend...it shaped who I am. Who can say if I’ve changed for the better? But I have certainly changed for good.”

Brick laughed, which just brought a fresh wave of tears. He held him so close he could practically hear his bones snapping. “I like to think I’ve been changed for the better.”

“I’m sorry.” Balthazar rested his chin on his head. “I’m sorry for everything I did, for all the terrible things that happened because of me.”

“You did no worse than I did,” Brick spoke, and they both laughed this time. “I don’t think it matters anymore.”

“Me neither.” A few stray tears rolled down Balthazar’s face. They both stood there, sniffling and chuckling at their shared sorrow, at their shared life.

There was a moment where Brick is told everything he missed. Events he was not there for, thoughts that were not his own. This was that moment.

Their reminiscing was interrupted by the sounds of a very angry mob outside. Balthazar kissed the top of Brick’s head, “you have to go.”

“I can’t-“ Brick was trying to say he couldn’t leave him, but Balthazar understood it as him not having enough time to escape before they showed up.

“Hide behind here,” Balthazar interrupted, shoving him behind a curtain. He flashed him one last brave smile before leaving to meet his fate.

Brick heard the splash of the water, wincing empathetically. “What a world, what a world!” His friend screamed, and then there was silence. And then there was _cheering_.

Brick waited a long time before emerging out from behind the curtain. He wanted to wait until the witch hunters had left, and even then, it took a little coaxing to get his legs to move. He didn’t want to see it. He didn’t want to have to admit it really happened.

But there was his stupid hat, lying sadly on the floorboards. He picked up the drab thing. He was almost fond of it, since it reminded him of Balthazar, although he wished he had a nicer thing to remember him by than an ugly hat. Beneath the hat was his locket. That was definitely an upgrade.

He picked up the locket, opening it with trembling hands and breathing in its vanilla smell with closed eyes. He stopped, and smelled it again. He knew that smell. He hurried back to the wizard’s castle.

The wizard and Mr. Block were talking when Brick burst into the room. “Wizard!” Brick nearly ran up to him, opening the locket and forcing the leaves up to his face. “Do these look familiar to you?”

The wizard glanced at them, then back at Brick. His face was smug, “They’re certainly mine. What’s your point?”

Brick could hardly believe he was right. “These belonged to Balthazar, they-they were his mother’s-or, the last thing he had to remember her by. That’s why his skin was green! Because-because of whatever plant stuff you’re made of! He was your son!”

“A child of two worlds,” Mr. Block thought out loud, “that explains why his magic was so potent.”

The wizard was horrified by this revelation. He fell to his knees, and the floor trembled with the _thump_. “My son…” He sounded distant, still lost in disbelief. “I killed my son…”

He reached for the locket, but Brick pulled it away and stuffed it in his pocket. He glared down at him, “I think it’s time for you to retire. You have two hours to leave Oz. If you ever show your face here again, I’ll introduce you to my favorite weedkillers.”

He turned sharply on his heel, facing Mr. Block. “Guards!” He called out, quickly surrounded by those willing to do his bidding. “Arrest this man. For murder.”

“You can’t do this!” Mr. Block scoffed as he was grabbed by two guards.

“Watch me.” Brick waved them off, tuning out the rest of Mr. Block’s protestations. He breathed,and put on a happy face. It was time to greet his people.

This was where Brick’s story ended.

But it wasn’t the end of the story.

At the wicked witch’s castle, Someone creeps around. Checking left and right and up and down to make sure no one is around, the scarecrow lifts the trap door, struggling with it in a comical manner. “Come on out!” He calls down cheerily. “It’s safe!”

Balthazar slowly climbs out. He stares at the scarecrow. The scarecrow laughs, holding out his arms for a hug, “S’okay, you can touch me!”

Balthazar pokes at him. “I can’t believe I did this.” The wonder in his face is replaced with dread. “Oh, Vinnie, I’m sorry, I’ve turned you into a sack of hay.”

Vinnie laughs again, poking Balthazar back. “You saved my life!”

“You’re still beautiful,” Balthazar offers, still examining his body. He playfully slaps his butt, and then catches Vinnie before it knocks him over. He was going to have to be a lot gentler.

“Aw, you don’t hafta lie to me,” Vinnie kisses his cheek, and the straw tickles. He looks at him with a level of adoration Balthazar didn’t believe could be found even in fairytales. “It’s kinda funny, isn’t it? I used to be a prince. I would get whatever I wanted in life and I didn’t have to do nothin’ for it, but somehow this is the happiest I’ve ever been.”

“Well, happy endings don’t usually look the way you’d expect them to,” Balthazar nods, taking his hand as he walks around the room. He’s sad to see his hat is missing. Brick must’ve took it. Brick. “I wish we could’ve told Brick we’re alright.”

“Me too, but this is for all of our safety. Safeties? Anyway, he’ll probably put it together eventually.” Vinnie points out as Balthazar grabs the Grimoire.

“I suppose so,” Balthazar takes them over to the broom. He huffs, “I can’t believe he really thought I melted! He should know me better than that. How was my death scene, anyway? Was I convincing?”

“Eh, a little dramatic.” Vinnie admits as he swings his leg over the broom, wrapping his arms snugly around Balthazar’s waist.

Balthazar looks back at him, clucking worriedly, “hold on tight, okay? You’re very light. I don’t want you blowing away.”

Vinnie steals a kiss while his face is turned his way and grins, “I promise I’ll never let go of you again.”

“You better,” Balthazar wiggles a little, getting situated. They have a long journey ahead of them. There were realms beyond Oz just waiting to be explored. “I don’t know what I’d have to do if you managed to get killed again. Can’t imagine we can go much lower than a scarecrow.”

“Don’t worry about that, you’ve made me immortal.” Vinnie tells him confidently, then pauses. “Okay, mostly immortal, but also incredibly flammable. No more fireballs?”

“I cross my heart,” Balthazar snorts. “You ready?”

Vinnie kisses his shoulder, which he takes as confirmation. Eyes trained on the open window, he leaps, and with that they’re flying.


End file.
